Lost and Found
by minasark
Summary: After the Battle at Hogwarts, Hermione struggles to find her place in a world that has asked too much of her. Deciding to leave it all behind—at least for a little while—Hermione creates a non-magical life for herself...until a certain dragon tamer accidentally walks into it.
1. Chapter 1: A New Start

**Disclaimer:**_I do not own Harry Potter or any of the lovely characters that J.K. Rowling has created in the wonderful wizarding world. I only own the plot and any new characters. _

* * *

**January 1, 1999**

Hermione Granger rounded the corner, her pace quickening as she neared the bookstore.

She was more than ready to get indoors and out of the rain.

She only had herself to thank for being up this early, braving the morning's dreary weather since she'd been the one who offered to open the store in the first place. She had made no plans for celebrating New Year's Eve the night before—opting to stay at home with a good book and a glass of wine instead—so she volunteered.

Hermione figured letting her boss—a Muggle woman named Melinda—spend the first day of the new year with her family was the least she could do.

After all, the life she currently had was all because of the kindness Melinda had shown that fateful day three months prior when she had stumbled into the Welsh bookstore lost and with nowhere to go. Choosing to leave the wizarding world behind—at least temporarily—was one of the hardest decisions Hermione had ever made, but she knew that she had done the right thing.

It had all simply become too much.

At first Hermione had felt numb. It was all she could do to keep herself somewhat together after what had happened during the Battle of Hogwarts. As the days stretched into weeks, the full weight of all that she had experienced during the battle and the months leading up to it came crashing down upon her. She had been asked to give hours' worth of statements to Ministry officials and the Wizengamot, detailing the events of the previous year. With each retelling, Hermione found that she relived the trauma all over again.

By the end of June, she felt as though she had been fractured beyond repair.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron had taken up residence at the Burrow which provided the Golden Trio protection from the prying eyes of the press and general public. It did not, however, provide them refuge from the magnitude of all that they had lost, despite their victory.

_Cedric, Sirius, Moody, Dobby, Remus, Tonks, Fred…_

Hermione had come to quickly realize that there were no true winners in war. Only survivors.

Between her trips to Ministry Headquarters, she had thrown herself into disaster recovery efforts at Hogwarts. She helped rebuild parts of the castle, assisted with the repair and re-cataloging of the books and ancient tomes in the school's library, finding anything to stay busy enough to keep her mind from thinking about the horrors of it all. Rationally, she knew it wasn't a sustainable coping mechanism, but for a time it worked.

Eventually, the castle and its grounds were fixed and ready for the new school year and Hermione had no choice but to finally confront how the events of the last year had affected her. She'd been on autopilot for so long—and before that in a consistent state of fight or flight—she wasn't sure exactly how she was _supposed_ to function anymore.

It also didn't help that things were quickly beginning to unravel with Ron.

Hermione had known the moment Ron chose to leave during the horcrux hunt that things between the two of them would never be the same. She had felt the betrayal tear through her all those months ago with every step he took as he walked away, leaving her behind with Harry. While he eventually returned, the damage had been done and unlike the castle walls of Hogwarts, their relationship wasn't as easily repaired.

_Of course_, Hermione knew Ron felt remorse for his actions during that time. That he wished he could take back the hurtful words and accusations—he told her as much often—but Ron's mixture of guilt and shame often clashed with the hurt and frustration Hermione felt, resulting in frequent arguments over the smallest of offenses.

Throughout all of this, Hermione's sleep had been plagued nearly every night by nightmares. More often than not, she would wake up screaming from reliving her torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange and with every restless night that passed, she was finding herself increasingly unable to bear the look of guilt Ron would give her when she would find her bearings after waking up so violently.

She'd had a particularly vivid nightmare on that last night at the Burrow. The last night before she left it all behind.

She supposed that particular fight was bound to happen at some point, but the lack of sleep had done her no favors that morning.

It was the tiniest of gestures that had done it.

Hermione had taken to cleaning around the Burrow using Muggle home remedies after she found herself awake and unable to go back to sleep. Ron would usually follow and try to help however he could, which usually meant that he would unintentionally get in her way.

In the early hours of that fateful morning, Hermione had set her sights on renewing the stone floors of the kitchen to their original polished state. Scrub brush in hand, she rolled up the sleeves of her jumper and got to work…

…until she saw Ron flinch when he saw the slur that had been carved into her arm.

Setting down her scrub brush, Hermione sighed almost as if in defeat, "This isn't working, Ron."

The redhead paused mid scrub and looked at her, puzzled.

"I know." he muttered, looking around at the partially scrubbed floor, "I keep telling you that spells would be a lot more effective, not to mention quicker."

"No." She whispered, "I mean that I can't…I'm not going to get better if you keep treating me this way."

Ron looked at her in shock for a moment, "And what way is that, Mione?"

Hermione inwardly cringed at the nickname. He knew she didn't care for it.

"Looking after you when you wake up screaming in terror?" he continued, "Helping you when you come down here to clean using whatever _this_ is?"

He waved the scrub brush around to emphasize his point.

"_You're smothering me, Ron!_" She blurted out, exasperated.

"Sorry if I _care_ about my girlfriend's well-being." Ron shot back, folding his arms over his chest, his temper clearly on the rise.

"Do you though?" Hermione had whispered, before she could stop herself.

Ron's face was red in an instant, "_Of course_ _I do!_"

She had looked at him then, a tired expression on her face and tears in her eyes, "Then why doesn't it feel like it?"

Before he could interrupt with another objection, she continued, "You never ask, Ron. You never ask what I want…what I need to feel better. You just assume. You _always_ just assume."

She sat back on her heels, "I don't want you constantly following me as though I am something fragile that's about to break. I don't want you constantly fussing over me as if I cannot manage anything on my own."

She gestured around the kitchen, tears freely falling, "And I certainly don't want you following me down here out of_ guilt_ every night when I have nightmares."

"Well then what _do_ you want, Hermione?" Ron asked, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

"_I want you to stop treating me like I am your penance for what happened during the war!_"

They both sat there in stunned silence at Hermione's outburst, the truth of it settling over them like a dense fog.

"This just…isn't working, Ron." She had sniffed, looking at the ceiling in a vain attempt to stop her tears, "I want us to be okay, but I don't think we can be if we continue…if we keep…"

At that point she had been crying too hard to finish her sentence.

"Right. Yeah. No, I get it." Ron said, trying to gain composure as he stood, "'It's not you it's me,' though clearly, it's me. Sorry for trying to be there for you, 'Mione."

And for the second time within that year, Ron had left her devastated and crying.

Hermione wasn't sure at what point during their fight Harry had come downstairs, but he had heard enough to know what had happened.

He had slowly crouched down next her, gathering her in his arms and letting her cry in silence. After what seemed like hours, when Hermione seemed to have no more tears left, Harry asked the one question Hermione had wanted Ron to ask.

"Tell me what you need?"

Which was how she had found herself later that day in King's Cross station, a ticket for a Muggle train in her hand and enough Muggle money for her to get by until she found a place to settle. Hermione had protested when Harry took her to Gringotts to take out a tidy amount of Galleons and had them converted into Pounds, but he had told her to consider it an early combined birthday and Christmas gift. He only wanted to see her happy and he knew, at least for the moment, she would not find happiness at the Burrow.

With assurances that he would get a PO Box address through the Royal Mail so they could keep in touch through Muggle post, Hermione hopped on the train and left all that she knew—all that had brought her joy over the seven years and more recently, immeasurable pain.

She made her way to Wales, deciding to try to start anew in Cardiff. After an hour of wandering the streets feeling hopelessly lost, she sought out the only thing that made sense to her.

Books.

After getting directions from a helpful stranger, Hermione found Melinda's charming little bookstore. The older woman had taken one look at the state of her when she walked in and within minutes, Hermione had found herself sitting next to the register with a hot cup of tea in her hands, telling the kind shop owner her story.

As much of her story as she could: that Hermione's life had been affected by the strange attacks that had happened throughout the UK in the last year. That she had lost her parents, her friends, and decided to make a clean break, only now that she was here, she was utterly lost on how to go about doing so.

And that was when Melinda worked her magic…so to speak.

She'd had a friend who was looking for a tenant for the small one bedroom flat above their floral shop and as it just so happened, Melinda was needing some extra help around the store. She had found that as she was getting older, owning and operating the bookstore by herself seemed less and less enticing.

So during the past three months, Hermione had nearly cut herself off from the Wizarding World, exchanging correspondence with Harry and Ginny only through the Muggle post. While Hermione still did minor magic when she was alone, she kept the majority of her magical items locked away, only keeping her wand with her at all times in its holster under her clothes.

It wasn't that she had sworn off magic all together—she saw it more as taking a break. Ever since she learned she was a witch, her life had been turned upside down—for both better and worse. All she wanted was time to heal in peace and figure things out away from the public eye. She no longer wanted to be Hermione, one third of the Golden Trio and the weight that title carried.

She just wanted to be Hermione Jean Granger, book worm and insufferable know-it-all again.

And so, Hermione had created a relatively magic free existence for herself as she slowly healed from the war's aftermath, finding solace in the methodical routine of Muggle life.

Which was why when Charlie Weasley walked through the shop's front door as the day's first customer, Hermione nearly fainted from shock.

* * *

Waking up that morning, Charlie wasn't sure what the new year would hold for him, but he couldn't help feeling cautiously optimistic.

After all, nothing could be worse than the previous year.

He'd taken leave from his job at the Romanian sanctuary for a few months after the Battle at Hogwarts to be with his family as they mourned the loss of Fred and the countless others who had died in the Second Wizarding War. He'd helped with the rebuilding efforts at Hogwarts, needing something to do after the initial wave of grief subsided. In addition to repairing the structural damage that the castle had sustained, he also was tasked with going into the Forbidden Forest alongside Hagrid to check in on the magical creatures who lived within to ensure that they had made it through the battle, offering assistance if they needed—or more accurately—_wanted_ it.

Some part of Charlie knew that his family would not make it through the war intact. The odds simply weren't on their side and ever since they had that close call with Bill the year prior, not to mention his father the year before that. Charlie was constantly on edge—waiting for the Patronus that would urgently tell him to get to St. Mungo's.

Given the nature of his work and the recruiting he was tasked to do for the Order, Charlie had anticipated that it would most likely be him.

He had never expected it to be Fred.

The loss of his younger brother had hit their family hard and those weeks he had spent back home were some of the most difficult he'd ever experienced—each of them dealing with grief in their own way.

His father busied himself with work after being appointed to the task force that was restructuring the Ministry in the war's aftermath. His mother channeled her grief into tending to the matters of the home—more so than she usually did, which was really saying a lot. Every meal was made from scratch and always served warm, baked goods were always available no matter the hour if anyone needed to drown their sorrows in sugar, and every inch of the Burrow was spot free—though Charlie had suspicions that Molly was getting help from another house guest on that last one.

He'd woken up one night in a fit of restlessness just weeks after the Battle to find Hermione meticulously cleaning between the tiles of the kitchen's backsplash with what he recognized as a Muggle toothbrush. He had thought about approaching her that night to maybe ask if she needed company or maybe wanted help in the cleaning, but it became clear with his youngest brother's sudden arrival that she needed—or wanted—neither. He quickly left his secluded observation point, not wanting to hear another one of their fights.

Of his siblings, Ron was handling everything the worst.

Bill focused his energy on recovering with his wife—spending as much time as he could with Fleur, the two of them trying to rebuild a life in which they could start a family. Percy followed their father's example and buried himself in his work at the Ministry trying to right his wrongs from the past few years he had separated himself from the Weasley clan. George used his grief focus on the joke shop, insisting that Fred of all people would have been the first to say that the world needed joy and laughter more than ever in the weeks and months after the war. Charlie admired his younger brother's will and determination to honor his twin by ensuring that the dream they shared would stay alive.

That Fred's legacy would continue on.

Ginny, always having been up for the twins' escapades throughout childhood, helped George throughout the summer before she went back for her last year of schooling. When she wasn't helping George develop a new charm or potion for the shop, she spent her time with Harry. Whenever Harry was available—which wasn't often—the pair of them would take long walks around the property surrounding the Burrow or hop on their broomsticks for a leisurely fly over the countryside. Throughout the tragedy that had resulted from the war, the two had managed to find their way back to one another. Charlie did not envy the public life Ginny was sure to have as the girlfriend of the Chosen One, but if anyone could put up with (and push back on) public scrutiny, it was Ginny.

Which brought him back to Ron.

He wasn't sure exactly what all his youngest brother had experienced when he had disappeared with Harry and Hermione on what he now knew was the hunt for the Dark Lord's horcruxes, but he knew that it had been pretty bad. He had never asked Ron specifically what all had happened—he saw how relentless Ministry officials had been with the three of them getting their statements after the war was over. He didn't want to add to his brother's stress of reliving all that had happened to him, not when he was constantly having to appear in the numerous Death Eater trials to give testimony.

Charlie had noticed that Hermione had been on the receiving end of the majority of the Wizengamot subpoenas, eventually learning from Bill that when the trio had shown up at Shell Cottage, Hermione had been in _quite_ the state. From what Charlie had been able to piece together, Hermione had been separated from the boys when they had been apprehended by Death Eaters and he shuddered to think what the poor girl had experienced. She had different testimony to give and his heart broke for her every time she trudged back into the Burrow after her court summons, Molly pressing a warm mug of hot chocolate into the girl's hands before she went straight to the room she had been sharing with Ginny, reemerging only for dinner.

It was in those moments that he had first began noticing his youngest brother's actions.

In the times when Hermione truly needed comfort, Ron was nowhere to be found, leaving it to his mother and sister to care for her. In the moments she wanted to be left alone, however, Ron suddenly became her shadow, fussing over her until he would do or say something that caused her to snap at him, resulting in a fight. The pair of them had always been argumentative. Charlie had observed their friendly ribbing in past interactions when he was home for the holidays, but it had never been remotely close in intensity of their current rows.

Ron had always been a little clueless when it came to girls, but Charlie couldn't fathom how his brother couldn't see how his actions were harming Hermione. Which was why it wasn't a shock when he woke up one morning to find that Hermione had left, leaving only a note of thanks to Molly and Arthur for their hospitality and her apologies for the suddenness of her departure, assuring that it was for the best. Charlie took the opportunity of the disruption of the Burrow's routine to make his exit as well.

It was time for him to return to work.

Upon returning back to the dragon sanctuary in Romania, his boss had told him that he thought Charlie should apply for the position of Dragon Control Officer which would allow him to travel and work with dragon sanctuaries around the world in the care and research of the magical creatures. Charlie applied for the position and with his boss's glowing recommendation, received the promotion. He had spent the last few months training in his new role and found himself traveling to work at different sanctuaries every couple of weeks.

He was loving it.

While he missed his coworkers and the specific dragons that had been under his care in Romania, there were a lot of things he loved about new and exciting aspects of his position—travel being one of them.

Which was how he found himself in Cardiff, on the precipice of starting a new assignment.

He had a few days to himself for the holiday before he headed north to the small dragon sanctuary nestled within Brecon Beacons. It was a sanctuary that was home to the smaller dragons of the British Iles as well as one of the sanctuaries that specialized in dragon healing and rehabilitation.

Figuring he needed to stock up on entertainment options before he found himself living out of a tent for the next few weeks, he headed to the Muggle bookstore he had spotted the previous night on his way to check into the Wizarding Hostel. Charlie enjoyed Muggle literature—no doubt because of the influence of his father—and thought that he should get a few new books to read during his downtime at the sanctuary.

Walking into a Muggle bookstore felt like walking into a different kind of sanctuary all together, so he was quite stunned when he walked into that particular shop to find a _very_ familiar face behind the front counter.

When Charlie would think about it later that night, it all made perfect sense.

The reason why Ron wasn't able to find Hermione through magical means was now extremely obvious: she was no longer living a magical life.

Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, was a clerk in a Muggle bookstore.

And Charlie hadn't seen her look as _healthy_—total shock aside—as she did standing before him since Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Hermione recovered first, calmly reaching down to pick up the book she had been reading before Charlie's arrival, before looking at him with defiance.

"I'm _not_ going back. You cannot make me."

Charlie raised his eyebrows. He wasn't sure what he had expected her greeting to be, but that certainly wasn't it.

"I don't think there is anyone in this world who could make you do anything you're determined not to do, Hermione." He stated matter-of-factly as his shock began to wear away, "It is definitely not my intention to try."

She frowned, clutching the book to her chest, still clearly suspicious, "Then why are you here?"

His instincts kicking in, he subtly gave her a once over, quickly assessing the situation. He didn't have to be a dragon tamer to know an acute stress response when he saw it.

"I'm on my way north to…" he began as he did a quick sweep of the tiny shop, making sure that there was no one else present. He looked back at Hermione who gave him the tiniest of nods.

It was safe to talk.

"I'm heading to the Black Mountains to spend some time at the sanctuary up there." He explained, figuring the best way to defuse the situation was through simple and honest communication, "There's some exciting research being done there and they asked me to oversee it. Thought I would pick up some reading material to keep me out of trouble when I'm not face to face with dragons.

"Mum worries enough as it is with the nature of my job," he continued with what he hoped was a reassuring shrug, "so I figure the least I can do is be a homebody during my down time—especially since the closest pub to this particular sanctuary is quite a ways away. I'm not sure if you've ever tried to apparate several fire whiskeys into an evening before, but it's not pleasant. Much safer to stay home curled up with a good book."

Hermione's lips almost quirked into a smile, but she was still hesitant to trust him, "You're truly not here to…"

"No, Hermione, I'm not." Charlie cut off, taking a cautious step forward, "I wouldn't even if asked."

Hermione sighed in relief and Charlie couldn't help but be taken aback. She had truly thought that he would have tried to forcibly take her back to the Burrow.

"We were concerned when you left so suddenly," he explained, "but we understood that it was what you needed to do. We all could see that you were not happy, Hermione.

"Well," He amended, "_Most_ of us."

He took another step forward, meeting Hermione's gaze squarely, "I will not tell anyone anything you do not want me to."

They stood there for a moment, forming a silent truce, when Charlie suddenly realized that this was the most uninterrupted time he had ever spent with Hermione in the years that they had known one another. Sure they had spent time around each other when they had both taken up residency at the Burrow over the years, but he could count on one hand the conversations that they had ever shared one on one. Really, the only things he knew about her were second hand stories from his family, fellow Order members, and the handful of observations he had made over the years.

For her practically being an honorary Weasley, they were more or less strangers.

"So…" he began as he shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping that Hermione hadn't picked up on his sudden—albeit awkward—realization, "What do you recommend for someone who is a fan of Robert Jordan?"

Hermione's face lit up at the abrupt change of subject, "Follow me."

They spent the next thirty minutes going through the bookstore, Hermione pulling books from the shelves that she thought Charlie would be interested in. They would confer for a few minutes before he would indicate whether to add it to the ever-growing stack in his hands or to put it back on the shelf for another customer to find.

By the time they returned to the counter, Charlie had enough books to keep him busy for quite some time.

"Where do you keep all of these when you're finished with them?" Hermione asked as she rang up his purchases.

"I still have a flat near the sanctuary in Romania." He explained taking out a Muggle wallet to find the proper currency, "It has several bookshelves in it that are getting quite full."

Hermione smiled as she began to grab a bag to put the books in, but Charlie politely waved her off. He placed his rucksack on the table and put the books in one by one, the bag noticeably not growing in bulk or weight.

"Handy bags, those." Hermione commented with what Charlie could have sworn was longing.

"That they are." He agreed, filing that observation with the many others he had made over the years about the girl.

He placed the straps of his bag over his shoulders and hesitated before making his leave.

"It was really good to see you, Hermione." He said, offering her a small smile.

"It was really good to see you too." She replied, walking next to him as they neared the front door.

Charlie wasn't quite sure what prompted him to say it, but he didn't feel as though he could leave the store quite just yet, "I'm staying at a hostel in town through the weekend." He blurted.

Hermione paused mid-step and Charlie immediately began to clarify his intentions, "I don't want to impose any more than I already have, but we both know that my mother would have my head if I didn't offer…that is, if you're available, would you maybe want to…grab dinner?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he sighed, silently cursing himself for sounding like a bumbling idiot. Charlie was no stranger to asking women out, actually priding himself on his prowess with the fairer sex. He'd never in his life been as unsure of whether or not his invitation to getting dinner and drinks would be well received.

But he wasn't asking a girl out—at least, not in the sense of how he was used to. Charlie just wanted to be sure Hermione was truly okay before he left. He wasn't lying when he said that Molly would scold him for his poor manners, already hearing the howler she would surely send him if she caught wind that he had seen Hermione and had elected not to offer they get a meal together before he left town so he could truly gage how she was doing.

He didn't even want to think about Ginny's reaction.

Hermione stood there in silence, looking through the glass door in thought and Charlie began to panic.

He had overstepped.

He was clearly not supposed to find her in her new life and she was thinking of a polite way to say no. He half expected her to already be thinking of a plan to pack up and relocate, despite his promise to keep their meeting a secret.

"Just think about it." He said once the silence stretched past farther than was comfortable, "Good-bye, Hermione."

Adjusting his scarf, he walked out of the store, muttering to himself as he walked down the street.

"Charlie!"

He abruptly stopped at the sound of his name and turned, seeing Hermione standing outside the shop, arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to stay warm standing on the sidewalk without a jacket.

"How does 6 o'clock sound?" she called.

Charlie grinned.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is my first HP fic, so please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2: Dinner and Coffee

**January 1, 1999**

"This place is incredible." Charlie commented to Hermione as they were seated at their table. He looked around and couldn't help but be charmed by restaurant's distinctive vibe.

"Just wait until you try the food." She replied, following his gaze as he took in the rounded concrete ceilings, exposed brick walls, and posh leather seating.

Charlie turned to face her again and smiled. His initial thoughts upon first seeing Hermione at the bookstore ringing even more true as he saw her sitting in front of him, fully relaxed. She had changed into an off white knit jumper and a pair of what he recalled as black muggle jeans. She had managed tame her wild curls into a messy bun and Charlie found himself wondering if she was even wearing any makeup or if she had been just that beaten down when she was at the Burrow that her current natural looking glow was just what she looked like when she was simply happy. Healthy.

For the umpteenth time that day, he wondered how he hadn't seen how truly miserable she had been.

But then again, it was all anyone could do in those early weeks just to make it to the next day.

"This is one of my favorite places."

Her comment snapped his focus back to the present and he found himself smiling again. They had both spent too much time drowning in grief. It was a new year. A new start.

He needed to find joy wherever he could.

"I can see why."

"We're sitting in what used to be bank vaults." She said, lowering her voice almost conspiratorially.

Charlie gave the dining room another once over, an observation from earlier suddenly making sense.

"So that's why there was an iron grate door in front of the wine cellar?"

"Not quite the same security as a dragon, but yes." She chuckled, smirking at what almost seemed to be a private joke.

One of the first things they had done upon sitting down was silently cast a privacy charm around their table. They were able to speak freely without worrying they would be overheard, but Charlie was still shocked that Hermione had very casually brought up something that most witches and wizards wouldn't have even known to talk about.

He looked at her cautiously, "How do you know that there are dragons at Gringotts? That's only supposed to be rumor."

Hermione's eyes widened a little as she took a drink of water.

"Oh! You don't know!" She exclaimed, setting her glass down.

"Know what?" he asked, unsure of what, exactly, he was about to hear.

"Well…" Hermione started, searching for the right words, "you know about the horcrux hunt?"

Charlie gave a slight nod. It wasn't common knowledge among the wizarding world how the Golden Trio managed to vanquish the Dark Lord—just that they had gone on a year long quest that resulted in them learning how defeat him once and for all. Those who were in the Order or were high ranking Ministry officials knew what all the quest entailed.

"We had...reason to believe that one of them was in the Lestrange family vault, so we…sort of broke into it."

His eyebrows shot up as Hermione continued.

"We secured it, but Griphook—the goblin who had helped us break in—betrayed us and our only means of escape was…to breakout with one of the dragons after we…freed them."

Charlie looked at her incredulously, "_That was you three?_"

Hermione's cheeks turned pink as he burst into laughter.

"We didn't have very many options at the time!" She explained, "Besides, that poor dragon looked as though it had been abused."

"Oh, I have no doubt that it was." Charlie agreed, quickly sobering, "We have actually been petitioning the Wizengamot to stop the use of dragons as a means of vault security. The living conditions alone are inhumane and I also highly doubt that they are being treated with any shred of decency either." He paused, before fixing her with a discerning stare, "I thought that there had been some incident with Death Eaters that had resulted in the dragon's escape not that you, Harry, and Ron had _broken it out_. Blimey, Hermione…how did you even…"

He trailed off as he suddenly pieced it all together, "_You rode it out?_"

"Like I said," Hermione offered with a shrug, "We didn't have very many options."

Charlie threw his head back in laughter once more and this time, Hermione couldn't help herself from chuckling as well.

"You've got _stones_, Hermione Granger."

Hermione's cheeks went from pink to crimson as she searched to change topic, embarrassed by the praise, "So…this new job of yours…"

The rest of the dinner flew by.

Charlie talked about his promotion and the tasks and responsibilities his new position entailed. Hermione asked thoughtful questions and seemed genuinely interested in how dragon sanctuaries operated, laughing right along with him as he recounted more than a few of his misadventures over the years.

"Geoff was damn near lucky that the only things burnt off were his eyebrows." Charlie recounted, with a shake of his head, "The poor sod certainly learned his lesson about giving a Horntail the maximum radius it's entitled to. At least until they get to know your scent."

Hermione told Charlie about her life in Cardiff—how she had lucked into her job and living situation, describing her humble flat with as much reverence as if she were describing a palace.

To her, he supposed, it was.

"I've just…never had a place of my own," she admitted as they finished their dessert, "I didn't realize how liberating it would be. These last few years I've lived in a dorm at Hogwarts, in a sharing rooms at Grimmauld or the Burrow or in a tent Merlin knows where and it's just nice to have a place that's _mine_, you know? One that I don't have to share with anyone else."

Charlie smiled and nodded in understanding, "Part of the reason why I still pay rent on my flat back in Romania is that it _is_ nice to have a permanent residence to know I can always go back to…it was the first thing that I never had to split with any of my siblings. I completely get it."

They fell into a comfortable silence until Hermione broke it with a question he never thought she would ask, "Would you…like to see it?"

Charlie thought he must have given her _quite_ the look because her cheeks immediately flushed again as she cleared her throat, "Not…not in that way. I mean…as friends. For a platonic cup coffee?"

It was only because he saw how completely mortified Hermione was that Charlie didn't immediately laugh at the awkward turn of phrase. In fairness to her, his mind _had_ gone there when she asked him back to her flat but was soon brushed aside with the shock that she had extended invitation at all. He would probably be the first person from her past to truly get a look into the Muggle life she had made for herself—platonic invite or otherwise.

He didn't need experience working with temperamental creatures to know that this meant she liked him. Most importantly, however, it meant that she trusted him.

That being said, he couldn't resist teasing her just a little.

"A _platonic_ cup of coffee?" He stated slowly, as if he had never heard of there being any other kind.

Though, in his experience there hadn't been. In the past when he had been asked over to a girl's place for coffee, coffee had never been involved.

But this was _Hermione Granger_ and he shut that line of thinking down before it even began.

"I mean..." she faltered, her cheeks a bright crimson, "Don't get the wrong idea, I was just-"

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Hermione." He chuckled, reaching out for her hand that was currently balled into a tight fist next to her dessert plate,"Of course, I would like to see your apartment."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed in relief and for just a moment, Charlie saw her as the girl she had been when he'd first met her. Before the world gave her entirely too much responsibility to bear.

He had the sudden urge to make her smile again.

"And you know," He shrugged, grinning, "Enjoy a platonic cup of coffee."

Hermione groaned, taking her hand from his and placing it over her face in embarrassment, "Ginny can _never_ know I said that. She would be merciless."

They laughed as Charlie paid the bill—he had insisted since it was his idea to got out to dinner in the first place—and then they headed out into the brisk night on the short trek back to Hermione's flat.

* * *

For the first few blocks of their journey, Hermione was mentally kicking herself over her coffee comment.

_Of course_ he hadn't taken her invite back to her place as more than just a friendly invitation.

Why would he? He was _Charlie Weasley_ for Merlin's sake.

Because of that fact, it was much to her mortification that she found her mind wandering a little too far throughout dinner about the older Weasley sibling. She had caught herself thinking such unwanted thoughts as how she considered him to be the most striking of the Weasley men—an observation she had mused was due to his overall rugged appearance that she assumed all dragon keepers to have. His shaggy trademark red hair had been pulled back into a small bun since she had first seen him at the bookstore. It was a look, Hermione had noted, that suited his strong jawline which was currently sporting a very well-groomed beard. She supposed that long beards were impractical around fire breathing creatures, but his seemingly perpetual five o'clock shadow suited him just fine.

Charlie had worn a grey shirt under a well-worn navy flannel that seemed to be slightly too tight around his arms which indicated a level of fitness that even her traitorous brain couldn't bring itself to think about. He had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows revealing a translucent patchwork of scars that traveled up his right forearm and disappeared under his sleeve, only to peak past his shirt's collar at the base of his neck. She found herself envying him for how comfortable he seemed showing the world his scars.

Hers still remained quite hidden.

After four blocks of silence, Hermione broke it by pointing out some of her favorite places along the route. Her favorite bakery to get pastries on her way to work. The antique shop she liked to spend hours in just nosing about, occasionally finding treasures hidden among the shop's clutter. The new art gallery that her neighbor, Claire, opened just before the holidays.

Charlie seemed to sense her need to fill the silence and quietly enjoyed the impromptu tour back to her place. Eventually, they made it to the row of shop fronts and offices that several apartment units were housed on the second floors of, including hers. She took out her keys and opened the nondescript door that was next to the entrance of the flower shop her unit was above.

Hermione watched out of her periphery as Charlie seemed to take everything in with good-natured curiosity as they walked up the stairs. She knew that of all people he would not judge her living situation—especially after their conversation during dinner—but she couldn't help but feel the need to for him to approve of her modest apartment.

There were two single bedroom units over the floral shop and Hermione pointed out the other flat, commenting that the owner of the art gallery she had shown him on their way back lived there and that they had become friends in the time since Hermione had moved in.

Unlocking her door, Hermione flipped on the lights and quickly gave Charlie the grand tour. Her flat was relatively small, so the tour was less grand as it was efficient.

But it was hers and she was _immensely_ proud of it.

The building's owner had opted for as open of a concept as they could in the apartment's layout, which made the place seem brighter in the daytime with all the open natural lighting. The living room was cozy—an old stone fireplace acting as the room's focus with the rest of the room's furniture centered around it.

The living room blended into the kitchen which had an unusual amount of counter space considering how small it was. Hermione watched with some amusement as Charlie marveled at the Muggle appliances in the kitchen. She had found a small wooden table and two vintage looking chairs at that antique store which she placed against the wall behind the small loveseat in the living room and next to the refrigerator to help transition the cozy living space into the more modern kitchen.

She didn't have a lot of decor on the walls yet, but she did have one piece that she had received as a gift from Claire displayed proudly over the dining table. What she lacked in wall decor, however, she made up for in greenery. Potted plants decorated the space—on the window sills, the fireplace mantel, on top of the kitchen cabinets, wherever she could find space. She had made a habit of taking clippings from various foliage she admired on her walks throughout the city and nurtured them into thriving potted plants. She had always enjoyed Herbology at Hogwarts and she liked that it was a little piece of the wizarding world that could easily be practiced in the Muggle one.

She gestured down the small hallway towards the flat's small bathroom and her bedroom which she refused to give a more in-depth tour of in an attempt to avoid another embarrassing moment.

"It's not completely done." Hermione concluded, nodding over at the open space next to her bookshelf, "I would still like to find a chair and ottoman for over there and I think I need a bigger bookshelf, but—"

"It's perfect, Hermione." Charlie interrupted, kindly stopping her from babbling.

For the second time that evening, Hermione noted that Charlie seemed to have an uncanny gift of knowing when to stay quiet and when to step in when her brain couldn't seem to get her mouth to stop talking. It was comforting.

"Thanks."

Charlie took one last look around the apartment as if committing it all to memory before turning to Hermione with a mischievous grin, "Now…teach me the Muggle way of making a platonic cup of coffee."

She could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks as she gave out an annoyed huff.

"I know the _wizarding_ way to do it, but…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and gently pushed past him on her way to the kitchen, "Prat."

Charlie followed and watched with interest as she first filled her electric kettle with water before she took out her tiny coffee grinder. After first measuring the proper amount, she ground the beans she had purchased from her favorite local cafe that was near the bookstore to the proper texture.

"This is simply fascinating." He commented as she started to pour the now boiling water over the fresh grounds she had placed at the bottom of her French press, "There are almost as many steps to produce a few cups of coffee as there are to make an invigoration draught."

Hermione smiled, agreeing with the sentiment, "Trust me. You'll understand once it's done."

"I don't doubt that." He concurred, "It's already smelling incredible."

She picked up her small timer and pressed a few buttons before setting it back down and turning to face him.

"Now we wait."

They stood there in another one of their amicable silences for a few moments before Charlie spoke, "This really is a lovely place. It's actually about the size of mine back in Romania, though I can't believe that I have more bookshelves than noted bookworm, Hermione Granger."

"I'm working on it." Hermione chuckled, looking wistfully at her single shelf, "Besides, I have plenty more books, but they unfortunately have to be locked away in my trunk. Claire comes over quite a bit and I am sure she'd have several questions about the absurd amount of potions textbooks that I own."

"Ah." Charlie commented as he walked over to investigate something that caught his eye on her dining table. Picking up the already opened envelope that rested on a small stack of others, he turned to look at her, "Gin writes to you through Muggle post?"

"Yes." Hermione replied walking over to join him, "Both her and Harry. The Royal Mail is really the only way we're able stay in contact since this place isn't listed on the owl registry or Floo network.

She gestured to her fireplace and frowned when she turned back and saw the expression on Charlie's face as he stared as Ginny's stationary.

It was a strange mixture of sadness, guilt, and…anger?

"You really don't want to be found by him, don't you?" Charlie spoke, his words barely above a whisper.

Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but he quickly held up a hand.

"That's not a condemnation, Hermione. Not of you." He clarified, "We all saw how he was acting, but…I didn't think it was so bad as..."

He trailed off and they stood there for a moment, neither one knowing what to say.

Unlike their other silences, this one was heavy with words unsaid. Up until that point in the evening—as if by unspoken agreement—they had not talked about Ron.

"I promise not to bring him up again," he began, still staring intently at the envelope in his hands, "but I need to know…"

Hermione was suddenly very aware of how close she was in proximity to Charlie, but found that she was unable to move, rooted to where she stood as she waited to hear his question.

He took a deep breath and set the envelope back down on the table, fixing Hermione with an intense look, "I know that you and Ron argued, but did he…did your fights ever turn…physical?"

Hermione felt all the air leave her lungs as she realized how all of this had to have appeared to him. How her and Ron's relationship had grown more and more contentious—especially towards the end. Her sudden departure.

The extreme steps she was taking to stay off the magical grid.

"No." She quickly answered, "Ron never...never…"

She couldn't even bring herself to say it, but her words were enough to make Charlie visibly relax.

"Things just got…so complicated between us." She continued, thinking back to the end her and Ron's relationship, "I think he blames himself for a lot of things that happened—some of them justified and others not—but it was like…I was being smothered by his guilt."

Charlie carefully watched her as she explained, once again staying silent as she sorted through her thoughts, "Like being with me was his punishment…his way to atone. It just got to be too much."

She shrugged, gently tugging on the left sleeve of her jumper, "I had my own issues to deal with."

"I am so sorry, Hermione." He said when she had concluded.

Her head snapped up, "Why on Earth are _you_ sorry?"

"I saw how he was acting" He replied, "I should have said—"

"_You_ are not responsible for Ron's actions." She interrupted waving him off.

"I should have said something to _you_." He clarified, "Asked how you were doing, if you needed anything."

She stood there shocked at his words. That was the last thing she had expected him to say.

"I just figured it wasn't my place." He continued, "I was wrong. I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

Charlie looked as though he was about to say something else when the timer's alarm went off.

Hermione sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the interruption and gestured towards the French press that was patiently waiting on the counter.

"Would you like to do the honors?"

Charlie considered her for a moment, still deep in thought. He must have made some sort of conclusion about their previous conversation because within seconds, his playful grin was back and the tense atmosphere within the kitchen disappeared completely, "Lead the way."

Hermione briefly explained how the presser worked and what he needed to do to slowly press the coffee grounds down. Charlie looked absurdly pleased with himself as he did as he had been instructed and she couldn't help but smile.

Men and their toys. Magical or Muggle, it was always the same.

She took out two coffee mugs and poured them each a cup before turning to Charlie expectantly.

"I have sugar and cream to add if you would like, but I want you to take a sip of it first so you can get the full experience."

Charlie picked up his offered mug and gave it a cautious sniff before taking a sip.

His eyes widened in delighted surprise and Hermione laughed.

"Oh, I have to get one of those." He exclaimed, taking a larger sip of his coffee, "What did you call it?"

Hermione wrote down the name of the store where she had purchased hers and gave it to him before they made their way to sit at her dining table where they enjoyed their coffee in silence.

"So how long will you be stationed in Wales?" she asked when they had both neared the bottom of their cups.

"For at least three months, but depending on how the research goes, through this year at least." He replied, drinking the last dregs of his coffee, "But I'll most likely be asked to make short visits back to Romania or to check in at some of the other European sanctuaries in between research stages though."

"That's incredible, Charlie." Hermione smiled, setting her empty mug on the table, "Truly. I'm so happy for you."

Charlie beamed.

"Thanks. I'm happy for you too you know." He looked around her apartment before continuing, "I'm glad that you're okay. More than just okay. You're thriving."

"Thank you." She replied, looking around at the life she had built for herself, content.

They both stood up and made their way to the apartment's door, Charlie grabbing his coat and scarf, ready to face the cold again on the walk back to his hostel.

He turned to say his goodbyes, but Hermione beat him too it.

"If you ever find yourself in Cardiff again…"

Charlie grinned, "I'll be sure to say hello."

* * *

**Author's Note: First and foremost, I want to thank everyon who has favorited, followed, and to Schneeherz, Alaya16, ChloeViolette, dovegrey, Krause, catzetier, alogan0213, and Colonialnymph for your thoughtful reviews! This has been an idea I've been kicking around in my head since I've started rereading the series and the response is far beyond what I expected. I have an idea of where this story is going to go, but as I have started writing future chapters, things shift, new chapter outlines are created, and Charlie and Hermione's path gets another twist and turn. I sincerely thank you all for expressing your interest in coming on this journey with me! Next chapter...dragons!**


	3. Chapter 3: Staying in Touch

**January 11, 1999**

Hermione was surprised to find a letter from an unfamiliar address waiting for her in the post box when she arrived home from work on what had otherwise been an average day. The only letters outside of bills or the usual junk mailers she ever received were from either Ginny or Harry and this unassuming brown envelope was decidedly not either of their stationaries.

Claire, who had been checking her mail as well looked at the envelope and raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

"Why are you getting mail from a pub in northern Wales?"

Hermione let out a surprised laugh, instantly knowing who the letter's sender must be.

"It's from a friend who lives there."

"Your friend _lives_ in the pub?" Claire asked, crossing her arms amused.

"No." Hermione clarified, "He is doing…conservation work up there. He said he would be living out of a tent for a few months, so I imagine that he doesn't have a fixed address."

To Hermione, who knew just how comfortable wizarding tents could be, she was rather amused by Claire's obvious shock to the concept of someone living out of a tent for more than just a weekend camping trip.

"Is this that guy that was here the other week?"

Hermione looked at her friend. For as eccentrically as she dressed and her overall air of capriciousness, she could be incredibly shrewd. She reminded Hermione very much of Luna Lovegood, which was part of the reason why Hermione had been very quick to form a friendship with her. Hermione thought back to all that she had said to Claire about Charlie's visit when she had gone over to her flat the other day.

"Yes." She answered, "Charlie."

"The older brother of the Ex."

Hermione gave Claire a cautious glance as they walked up the stairs to their respective flats.

"Yes."

"Hmm." Claire hummed skeptically, earning her a halfhearted swat from Hermione.

"It wasn't anything like that and you know it." She admonished

"Hey, I didn't say anything!" Claire chuckled, holding up her hands in surrender, "But the fact that your mind automatically went there is rather fascinating."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave her friend a-not-so-friendly hand gesture which caused the artist to chuckle.

"Have a good night, Hermione." She sang in a teasing manner, disappearing into her apartment.

Hermione let out an exasperated laugh as she entered hers, immediately walked over to her dining table, not even bothering to take her coat off before she opened and read the letter.

_**Hermione,**_

_**Greetings from the Black Mountains! I thought the Carpathian Mountains in Bulgaria were beautiful, but I was not prepared for the ethereal beauty of the mountains here in Wales. I've been spending so much time exploring the area when I'm not at work that I have barely touched my books. This will be remedied this weekend though as it doesn't look like the rain we're currently having will let up any time soon.**_

_**Anyway, I just wanted to write a quick note to thank you for your hospitality last Friday and let you know that if you wanted another quill pal, I can be reached at the address below.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Charlie**_

Within seconds, Hermione had her stationary out and was scribbling a reply.

_**Charlie,**_

_**Why am I not surprised that your mailing address is a pub? It was really nice to see you and finally have the chance to talk. It seems strange for as long as I have known your family, we've never really had the opportunity to get to know one another. I'm glad we're making up for lost time.**_

_**I am happy to hear that you are enjoying your time up there! I have heard nothing but wonderful things about Brecon Beacons and all that I have researched about the Black Mountains make them seem as incredible as you describe the. How does the sanctuary keep the dragons hidden from surrounding Muggle towns and villages? Are the wards similar to how you described the Romanian sanctuary to be?**_

_**I'd love to know how the start of your research is going.**_

_**-Hermione**_

_**P.S. Since we're using Muggle post we're technically pen pals.**_

Thankful that she was still in her coat, she sealed the letter and headed to the post office to see if she could catch it before it closed.

Hermione only had to wait a week before she found Charlie's answer patiently waiting in her mailbox.

_**Hermione,**_

_**As it turns out, the nearest pub was closer than I thought. The Ddraig Sanctuary is set up similarly to the one in Romania in that there are nearby magical communities surrounding the sanctuary that help provide a kind of buffer between the Muggle world and the sanctuary itself. These villages are equally made up of Squibs as they are witches and wizards, but they operate on a Muggle economy and are connected to other Muggle infrastructures—like the Muggle post, for example. They do get the occasional tourist, so there are strict local ordinances in place that keep displays of magic out of public spaces. My first night here, I got on quite friendly terms with the pub's owner. I figured I'd be there often enough that I could receive mail in a timely manner, and he seemed quite amiable…so I asked!**_

_**The same wards are implemented across all dragon sanctuaries and are actually quite similar to those of Hogwarts. Any Muggle that gets too close the sanctuary's boundary will suddenly remember an urgent task that they've forgotten to do and will turn around before they get anywhere close to being in any real kind of danger. Any witch or wizard that has not been given express permission to enter the sanctuary will run into a separate ward almost as though they have run into a glass wall. In the past, there have been issues with younger witches and wizards trying to sneak in to see the dragons and I'm sure you can imagine how well those outings would turn out.**_

_**We're still in the planning stages of the research process, but I have gone over several of the reports and proposals and I find myself almost impatient to truly start—some of the proposed theories are quite good. A common issue among dragons, especially ones that live in relative proximity to other species of dragons as they do in the sanctuaries, are ectoparasites. Think fleas or lice, but much larger and much nastier. They have started to become resistant to the spells that we have been using for decades to get rid of them and if left untreated, they can cause serious harm to the dragons they infect. If we cannot come up with a new solution on how to effectively get rid of them, we could be facing a dragon epidemic that could drastically reduce their already low numbers. So quite a lot is riding on this research and the successful outcome we hope will result from it. No pressure.**_

_**How are things at the shop? Any other scruffy redheads coming in and stirring up trouble? Thank you for the recommendation of A Game of Thrones, by the way. I can't seem to put it down! There's something truly enchanting about reading fantasy and magic interpreted through a Muggle author. Sometimes they're so close to the truth of it that I suspect several of them had to have at least been Squibs if not wizards themselves. In any case, they make for a great escape when you're stuck in a tent on a rainy afternoon.**_

_**-Charlie**_

Hermione placed her reply the mail the next day:

_**Charlie,**_

_**No pressure, indeed. Things at the shop are going well. So far, you've been the only troublesome redhead to come through the doors—all of the other redheads have been nothing short of polite. I am glad that you are enjoying George R.R. Martin! When I first read the novel, I had a hard time putting it down myself. Rumor is that the second book in the series will be released next month. I'm keeping an eye out for it on our shelves and I'll be sure to send you a copy once we get it…after I read it first, of course.**_

_**Growing up I was obsessed with fantasy literature. I think it stemmed from this book of ancient mythology that I found at the library and checked out so many times that for my birthday my parents gave me a copy of my very own. To this day it remains one of my most treasured books. It sparked a sudden and intense love of myths and legends—I read every story I could get my hands on about magical creatures, the supernatural, and stories that involved magic. If only I had known that in just a few short years, I would find out that it was all—more or less—real.**_

_**Dragons are magical creatures that I still can't believe actually exist. They're just so…larger than life—too magnificent to be real. If that makes sense, which it probably doesn't since working with dragons is quite literally what you do for a living.**_

_**-Hermione**_

As the weeks passed by, Charlie's letters seemed to have the same turnaround time has hers, much to Hermione's delight. She figured that the relatively quick response times was due to the fact that there wasn't much to do in the small village he inhabited outside of going the pub or reading. No wonder he had purchased so many books when he had visited the bookstore.

That rationalization, however, didn't stop her from feeling a burst of joy every time she saw one of his small brown envelopes nestled neatly in her mailbox.

_**Hermione,**_

_**Need I remind you that you have actually ridden on the back of a Ukrainian Ironbelly? That's something that not even I have done and am exceedingly jealous about, by the way. I do get what you're saying, though. Even when you grow up with magic, dragons are creatures that you generally only hear and read about—though whenever I read a Muggle novel where a dragon is some sort of sage being that talks only in riddles, I can't help but laugh. My job would be impossible if I had to constantly be cracking codes and solving philosophical puzzles as well as monitoring my charges' individual behaviors—all while trying to be on friendly enough terms with the dragons themselves to keep from being burned to a crisp.**_

_**There are many days, though, where I can't believe that I am lucky enough to being doing what I do...**_

They kept up a steady correspondence over the rest of January and throughout February. Hermione still received a constant exchange of letters from Harry and Ginny, but work and school respectively made it harder for them to respond as quickly as Charlie did.

She found that her letters with Charlie were nearly just as easy and pleasant as their conversation had been. They wrote to each other about all manners of things—what life was like growing up Muggle (Hermione) and what life was like in a household of an ancient wizarding family minus the pretension (Charlie). They wrote about their time at Hogwarts and Hermione was delighted to find that Charlie, despite also being a prefect, had just as many dangerous escapades as she did—sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest, how he had raised money to purchase what he believed to be a dragon egg only to find out later that it was the egg of an acromantula, and how he spent the rest of his free time on the Quidditch pitch.

Tonks even made an appearance in some of his stories. Hermione had forgotten she had been in the same class as him and they had been friends with one another. It was comforting to find out more about the clumsy, but brilliant Auror she had briefly come to know. Hermione went into slightly more detail than what was generally known about some of the exploits she had gotten into with Harry and Ron—explaining how exactly she and Harry had saved Sirius and Buckbeak from execution in her third year as well as just how it was they had thwarted Umbridge in the Forbidden Forest during their fifth year to escape to the Ministry of Magic—a story which Charlie found _particularly_ amusing.

Hermione was used to keeping a lot of these stories—or at least her feelings about them—secret. After years of these stories being told on a need to know basis, it was refreshing to be able to confide them to someone she knew would not only keep them to himself, but would understand the complex feelings she had about them, having gotten into his own fair share of mischief, even if the stakes had been lower. With each story shared, Hermione received a better appreciation of the older Weasley, her friendship with him quickly surpassing his brothers until she felt as though she could confidently say that outside of Ron, she knew Charlie the best of the Weasley men.

Which was why when Charlie extended an invitation for her to visit the sanctuary as a day trip, Hermione immediately said yes.

* * *

**March 6, 1999**

Hermione stepped through the fireplace in the back office of Dref y Ddraig's only pub, immediately grabbing onto the mantle to right her balance. It'd been awhile since she'd traveled via Floo and her technique was more than a little rusty.

She had been more than willing to take a train north, but Charlie had insisted that temporarily connecting the fireplace in Hermione's apartment to the Floo Network made more sense considering her trip north was only for the day. He'd even offered have it connected it under his name so that she could keep her apartment anonymous.

She looked around the cluttered office and smiled when she saw the familiar redhead sitting in the desk's chair, one pint in his hand and another set down on the desk next to him for her.

"Figured I'd give you a proper welcome." He commented, gesturing at the glass.

"It's ten in the morning." She admonished with a chuckle.

Charlie grinned, "Like I said. A _proper_ welcome."

"So do you do the bookkeeping here now?" she joked, gesturing to the desk. Her sudden movement caused the weight of the messenger bag she'd slung over her shoulders to shift rather uncomfortably and she moved the readjust the strap.

Seeing this, Charlie instantly stood and reached for the bag, "Here, let me carry that."

Hermione was thankful for the office's dim lighting as she felt her fingers grace his as she handed her bag over to him. She was quickly realizing that since they had become closer through their correspondence, those pesky thoughts she'd had about him when he was in Cardiff seemed to be intensifying now that she was standing in front of him again. She needed to get it together.

It was only Charlie after all.

"Roger would be a fool to let me anywhere near his books." Charlie continued, handing Hermione her pint glass, "There are things I excel at in this world and accounting is _not_ one of them. I thrive in a more…nontraditional office setting."

Hermione chuckled at the joke and followed him out of the office and into the pub proper.

"Speaking of the devil…" Charlie said as a rather large man approached the two of them.

Hermione took in the pub's owner and instantly understood how he and Charlie got along so well. Roger had a sturdy, muscular build much like Charlie did, but what she imagined it would look like in older age. He had a kind face that was accentuated by deep brown eyes and a bushy grey beard. His equally wild grey hair was contained under a black wool cap, and he had pushed the sleeves of his cable knit sweater up past his elbows.

He seemed like exactly the kind of person you could spend hours sitting at the bar swapping stories with.

"This is the lass you keep getting all that Muggle mail from, then?" He asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

"It's hardly been an avalanche of correspondence." Charlie replied with a roll of his eyes, "But yes. Hermione, this is Roger. Roger, Hermione."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Hermione greeted, reaching out to shake the bar master's hand, "Thank you so much for being our Muggle post conduit."

"Of course! Of course!" He exclaimed, "Anything for our Charlie, here."

Hermione looked over at Charlie and much to her amusement, saw that he was seemingly embarrassed by the praise.

Roger chuckled, slapping Charlie on the back, "This one here is too modest for his own good. Never able to accept a compliment."

Grinning, Hermione leaned in conspiratorially, "It is rather annoying, isn't it?"

Roger threw his head back, roaring with laughter as Charlie shook his head, trying his hardest not to look offended.

"Oh, I like her." Roger stated, "Once you two are done at the sanctuary, you come right back here. This little lass's drinks are on me."

Hermione smirked into her beer at Charlie's startled expression.

"And have you two openly conspire against me?" Charlie asked, his eyebrows raised, "I think not. In fact, we should really be getting on our way."

"But I've only just arrived!" Hermione protested, turning her attention back to Roger, "Besides, I'm sure Roger here has nothing but lovely things to say about you."

This caused another uproarious laugh from the bar master which was enough for Charlie to break into a small smile of his own.

Roger waved them over to seats that were at the end of the bar and Charlie gently placed her bag between the barstools, pulling Hermione's out for her before taking a seat of his own. They spent the next hour talking over their single round of beer—Hermione catching Charlie up on the events of past few weeks in Cardiff and Charlie giving a general overview of where they currently were in the research process. At one-point Roger had stopped by and relayed the events of the night when Charlie and several other of the sanctuary's dragonologists had stumbled into the pub, the lot of them looking more than a little worse for wear as one of the Common Welsh Greens had attacked one of the newer keepers who had gotten too close to its nest.

"Charlie's quick thinking saved that lad's life." Roger stated after he recounted the details of what had happened.

"Took a page out of Fleur's book and spelled it to sleep." Charlie explained, shifting on his stool, uncomfortable once more with praise being placed upon him, "I'd seen it work on a nesting Welsh Green before, I figured it would work again."

Hermione looked at him, running through the scenario in her mind. She remembered seeing Fleur cast the enchantment during the tournament her fourth year, but Fleur had days to prepare and practice the spell. It took someone with remarkably quick reflexes—not to mention strong casting skills—to have pulled off that complex of a spell on that large of a creature under those conditions.

Before she could think too much on the strange fluttering she was feeling in her chest, Charlie stood and placed several coins on the bar top.

"We'll see you later, Rog."

Before Hermione could grab it, Charlie picked up her bag and slung it over his shoulders, heading towards the pub's entrance.

Once they were outside, Charlie made a show of tugging at the bag's strap.

"Merlin, Granger, you're only here for a few hours. What on Earth do you have in here?"

This time it was Hermione's turn to blush, "Well, I didn't know what all to pack for a day trip to a dragon sanctuary, now did I?"

Charlie chuckled as she continued, "Besides, in my experience one can never be too prepared."

"You'll do just fine around here." He nodded approvingly.

They spent what was left of the morning touring the sanctuary's small nursery and potions laboratory. Hermione was particularly captivated by the charmed eggs that had either been abandoned or rejected by their progenitor.

"Dragons are very temperamental creatures." Charlie explained as they looked at an egg that had been smaller than its nestmates, "Any perceived weakness of the kit, especially in the early stages, and they're left on their own. Before sanctuaries, the runts of the litter had a significantly lower life expectancy."

Hermione bent down to get a closer look at the egg—which looked plenty big to her—thinking over all that Charlie had said. She felt her body buzzing with the thrill she had always experienced when she was working on a particularly difficult assignment.

"Is there a significant difference in size or health as they reach adulthood?" She asked, looking up at him, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"Not usually, no." Charlie answered, shoving his hands casually in his pockets.

He was fully in his element and Hermione couldn't help but admire him in this moment—at all of the knowledge he possessed and she was only just beginning to learn.

For the first time in months, Hermione felt a yearning to rejoin the wizarding world.

"We do our best to be as hands off in the kit's rearing once it hatches so that its natural hunting and survival instincts aren't hindered too much by human presence. Luckily, dragons are precocial, so they hatch as miniature versions of their adult selves. Within minutes of hatching they are able to walk, hover off the ground once they get used to their wings…within hours some are even able to produce a tiny flame."

Hermione turned back to the egg, considering this new information, "It just doesn't have anyone to show it exactly how to be a dragon."

She could practically hear Charlie's grin behind her, "Right. It has all the tools to be a dragon…just no real idea on how to go about it."

He moved to the other side of the egg's incubator and into her line of sight, "Which is where we come in. We create very easy hunting scenarios where a hare is all but laid at its feet for its first meal and after a few days of coaxing it into being a dragon…"

"It goes off on its own, a full-fledged dragon." She finished, smiling at the oversimplified turn of phrase.

"Exactly." He beamed, "We're able to place permanent tracking spells on all nursery hatchlings so we're able to keep an eye on them and since we've been able to do that, we've had a wealth of detailed information come in about their habits, their natural behaviors...we're really in a golden age of dragon studies which is why we can't afford any setbacks with charm resistant ectoparasites."

Hermione stood and followed him out of the nursery and to the building's lab where he gestured to a desk that was covered in open books and stacks upon stacks of parchment.

"My desk."

Hermione looked at him in shock before turning back to the chaotic scene in front of her.

"How are you able to get any work done in this mess?" She chided, lifting one of the larger books off of his desk and examining its cover.

"There's a method to my madness." Charlie defended, trying to shuffle his notes into neater stacks, "It's just that the method takes up a lot of real estate. Bill and Tonks hated it. They would always complain when my notes would encroach on their space at our study table. That was before we started studying outside. Much more space to spread out. Better view too."

He gestured towards the bulletin board on the wall directly in front of his desk that was full of notes. Hermione suspected that while the scraps of paper looked innocuous, they contained important snippets of information.

"Speaking of outside," Charlie began with a mischievous grin as he held up her bag, "Did you happen to pack a sturdy pair of boots in this thing?"

Hermione nodded.

"How would you like to see a dragon enclosure?"

* * *

Charlie watched with barely contained amusement as Hermione practically pressed herself against the protective wards surrounding the Hebridean Black's habitat. After learning long ago that fences and walls, no matter how fortified, were always breached in one way or another, sanctuaries had turned to creating and maintaining wards around the land designated for a specific dragon or dragon nest.

Several kilometers away, the Scottish dragon was flying with two of its kits in what Charlie instantly recognized as a hunting formation. The Hebridean Black was an ominous looking dragon with sinewy bat-like wings, a row of sinister looking spikes on its back, and piercing purple eyes. Over the few weeks he'd been around the species, Charlie found that their actual temperament was slightly more gentle than their appearance indicated. That being said, he knew better than to let his guard down around any breed of dragon, regardless on which side of the wards he stood.

He turned to look over at Hermione and found himself in a line of thinking that he knew was just as dangerous as the dragons that were hovering nearby.

It would have been a lie if Charlie didn't admit to himself that Hermione was an attractive witch—the evidence to the contrary was quite literally standing right next to him. He wasn't certain when he had first made that observation—it had most likely been at one of the many holidays she had spent with his family while she was still in school. She had always been Ron's sweetheart first and foremost and therefore off limits, not that Charlie had been interested in pursuing anything with a Fifth Year while he was a novice dragon keeper in Romania. Seeing his brother's obvious infatuation with the girl—even if Ron had refused to see it himself at the time—was an instant bucket of cold water that snuffed out any spark of interest before it could grow into something more precarious.

It wasn't until Bill and Fleur's wedding that he allowed himself to see Hermione as something more than just a close family friend—one that he barely knew but saw held a dear spot in the Weasley family. Maybe it was seeing her for the first time in a formal dress or perhaps it was seeing her pulled into conversation after conversation by the various wizards who had practically formed a queue to speak with her, trying to catch a glimpse of one of the close personal friends of Harry Potter.

A witch who would be instrumental to the permanent defeat of the Dark Lord.

It also probably didn't help that Ron had chosen him to complain to when Viktor Krum had his turn at holding Hermione's attention—which had been admittedly longer than the others'—by asking her to dance several dances with him.

"I mean, honestly. What does she even see in that brute anyway?" Ron had huffed.

Charlie rolled his eyes, wondering just how long his brother planned to monopolize his time that evening with petty complaints, "If memory serves me correct, you were the one with the Victor Krum action figure."

Ron's face turned a little red as he stared back at him incredulously, "Yeah, because I admired him as a Quidditch player. Not as some sort of sodding heartthrob."

"Maybe she likes older guys?" Charlie shrugged, knowing full well that he was being unhelpful, but ultimately wanting Ron to go away and sulk somewhere else.

Charlie did not miss the angst of teenage romance, though he thought that he had handled his _much better_ than Ron was currently doing. For starters, Charlie had always been very straightforward with his feelings with potential flings, learning very quickly that it often yielded positive results. He didn't understand the game that Ron seemed to be playing in ignoring his feelings for Hermione while being offended and jealous when she would do the same. It all seemed so incredibly exhausting, especially given the state of things at the time.

"If I may give you some brotherly advice," Charlie said, suddenly deciding that he was done with this conversation all together, "A witch like that is rare. She's smart, funny, extraordinary talented and for some reason decided to be friends with you. I dare say she might even return your feelings."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Charlie simply shot him an unamused look and he closed it.

"If I even _remotely_ sensed that I had a chance with a witch like that, do you think I would be sitting here chatting with my brother about how unfair it is that other wizards had also seen in her what I did? Get off your arse and actually do something before you blow your chance." He looked back out towards the dance floor, "From what I understand, you've already been given one chance too many."

"Well, that's just Ginny's opinion." Ron grumbled, sinking lower in his chair, "Not all of us were blessed to be Casanovas, you know. At least Fred and George give me advice I can use."

Charlie threw up his hands officially reaching the end of his patience, "Well then go talk to Fred and George. I'm getting another drink."

Bill had seen him stomp up to the bar knowing full where he had come from and who was responsible for his poor disposition, "Wonderful mood Ronald's in this evening."

"I apologize if I was ever that bad." Charlie muttered, grabbing the offered glass of wine from his brother.

"If anything, you had the opposite problem." Bill joked, clapping his brother spiritedly on the back.

Charlie chuckled and took a sip of his wine, gazing thoughtfully at Hermione who had just laughed at something Viktor had said. He had all but forgotten that she'd had a past with the famous Quidditch player.

When he looked at her in that moment, it was as though he was seeing her for the very first time.

He saw Hermione as an accomplished witch in her own right, someone worth admiring and not just as the best friend of The Boy Who Lived. She truly was everything that Charlie had said to his younger brother: smart, funny, and incredibly talented, but what he'd add to the list—among many other things—was the word "beautiful." Charlie knew that going down this path would only cause trouble and with the mission he'd just been tasked by the Order, he couldn't afford any more trouble.

Still, he couldn't help but echo Ron's initial question and wonder what exactly it was that she had seen in the Bulgarian as it certainly wasn't his celebrity status. While Charlie wasn't as familiar with the girl as the rest of his family, he knew enough to know that fame and Quidditch prowess would be last on her list of qualities she found attractive.

Maybe she _did_ like older guys.

Realizing that he was openly staring at the girl his youngest brother was currently pining over, he turned to focus his attention on Bill who had been looking back at him with an all too knowing look on his face.

"Oh, come off it." Charlie muttered into his glass before taking a longer drink

"I said nothing." Bill replied, feigning innocence, "Just…be careful there."

Charlie had immediately waved his brother off and hadn't allowed himself another remotely amorous thought about Hermione Granger until he ran into her in Cardiff.

Their dinner had been more than just pleasant. He had thoroughly enjoyed catching up with her and finally getting to know her just as well as the rest of his family did. Through their correspondence, they'd gotten even closer—forming a friendship outside of familial connections and the world they came from. Their new-found friendship only grew considerably as they lived their lives separate from the ones they left behind in London.

Because of this, it was all too easy to forget that she was his sister's best friend and more dangerously, that he was the older brother of her ex-boyfriend.

Really, it was little moments that had snuck up on him.

The ways she would call him out when he needled her with a little too much cheek. The stories from her past that she freely shared in her letters—ones he knew that only a privileged few knew about. The way she showed genuine interest in his work.

The relative ease with which she seemed to fit in his life despite him living deep in the Welsh countryside and her living in Muggle Cardiff.

Seeing Hermione's reverence in the nursery and now on the edge of the Hebridean Black enclosure as she watched the dragons fly stirred something in him that he knew meant trouble, but he found with some alarm that he was unable to tamp it down as easily as he'd done in the past.

He also wasn't entirely sure he really wanted to suppress it either.

So instead, he told her about the nuances in hunting styles between the different breeds of dragons, falling back into the relative safety and focus his work gave him so he would stop thinking about how close she was standing next to him and how intently she was staring at him.

They hiked around to several of the other enclosures, Charlie explaining the various breeds that were home to the sanctuary, smiling when Hermione would catch a glimpse of one in the distance. Occasionally, they would run into a few of his colleagues and Hermione would ask all about what they did at the sanctuary and other questions about the dragon breeds she had just seen but hadn't gotten around to asking Charlie.

Eventually, the sun began to set and the pair of them made their way to the pub for a quick dinner before Hermione took the Floo back home. Roger made good on his promise of free drinks for Hermione, and as more and more of Charlie's coworkers made their way to their table, the quick dinner turned into a full-fledged night out.

Charlie kept giving Hermione apologetic looks, assuring her that she could leave whenever she wanted.

"It's alright." She reassured, "Truly."

She gave the ragtag group of dragon keepers a nostalgic look that shot a pang through Charlie's heart.

"I haven't been out in a group like this in a long time."

In her letters, Charlie recalled her mentioning that she and her neighbor Claire would frequently hang out in each other's apartments given their proximity and he knew that she wrote to Ginny and Harry as well as to him. He couldn't help but shake the sad feeling that the Hermione he had spent the day with—the curious, engaging, and social girl sitting across from him in a pub where she was practically holding court—had been hidden away for so long.

"Besides," she continued, flashing him a grin, "I am learning _far too much_ dirt on you to leave now."

Charlie laughed as he signaled Roger for another round, "I'm almost afraid to hear what you've learned."

"Oh, we haven't even gotten to the good stuff." Amy—one of the keepers they had run into on the day's tour—chimed in, "I worked with you in Romania. I know it all."

Amy waggled her eyebrows in jest as Charlie groaned, "I'm going to go help Roger with the next round so I don't have to listen to this slander."

He stood up and headed towards the bar, taking one last look over his shoulder at the group of his friends and colleagues amassed at the table.

_Yes_, he thought with some trepidation, _Hermione Granger fit into his life a little too well._

* * *

Hermione sat at the table losing herself in the din of the pub and the feeling of warmth coursing through her body from her three pints of ale, the happiest she had been in what almost seemed like years. She couldn't remember the last time she had been out drinking with a group like this. Claire had always tried to get her to come out with her and her artist friends, but Hermione had always politely declined, opting to stay in with a good book and a glass of wine.

Perhaps she should start accepting those invitations when she returned.

Realizing that Amy was trying to get her attention, Hermione focused back in on the conversation.

"I know Charlie told us all not to bring it up, but I would be remiss if I didn't thank you."

Hermione frowned, "Thank me for what?"

Amy looked over Hermione's shoulder anxiously before looking back at her, "For all that you did during the war. I was there at the end…at Hogwarts with Charlie and the other reinforcements but…no one was as beat up as you three and…you gave the world quite a lot of yourself." Amy's gaze flicked back over Hermione's shoulder, "I'm glad that you're finally able to get some of it back."

Before Hermione could make sense of what the young keeper had said, Charlie had returned with a tray of fresh pints, Roger on his heels with a second one.

Within a matter of moments, the glasses had all been passed to their respective owners and another one of Charlie's colleagues began a story about how one of the greener keepers had nearly been toasted earlier in the week during what was supposed to have been a routine check up. Hermione remained quiet throughout the telling of the story, content to silently observe her surroundings while mulling over Amy's earlier words.

Once she was finished with her pint, she gave Charlie a look that indicated she was ready to leave. She said her goodbyes, giving Roger a giant hug before heading back to the pub's office with Charlie.

Charlie shut the office door and gave Hermione an inquisitive look, "Is everything alright?"

Hermione blinked, trying to keep her expression smooth, "Yes, why?"

"It's just that…" he paused, "You seemed more subdued during that last round. Did Amy tell you something truly ghastly? I can assure you, that whatever it was, it's not true…well…at least probably not _completely_ true."

Hermione gave him a small smile and shook her head, "No. It wasn't anything like that."

He kept quiet, waiting for her to expound on what she had just said and suddenly, Hermione felt exposed, "I…I had a wonderful day, Charlie. It was nice to be back in this world again and not…"

She paused looking down, seemingly very interested in the pattern of the beat-up rug on the office's floor, "It was nice to feel _normal_ again. Thank you."

They stood there in silence for a moment before Charlie cleared his throat, "Hermione…you have _never_ been anything less than extraordinary."

Something in the tone of Charlie's voice made Hermione's head snap up in attention. She met his gaze and the intensity of his expression made her toes curl.

BANG!

The two jumped as Roger came bursting into the office, seemingly oblivious to the energy that was crackling through the room.

It was as though Hermione had been encased in a block of ice.

After saying a quick good-bye to Charlie and another farewell to Roger, she grabbed a handful of Floo powder and cast it into the fireplace, heading back to her apartment before her embarrassment could be fully registered by either man.

Deciding that she didn't want anything else unexpected to happen that evening—especially while her better judgment was compromised by the several pints of beer she had enjoyed that evening—switched off the Floo connection to her fireplace.

She was almost certain that Charlie had been about to kiss her.

More alarmingly, more than anything, she'd wished he'd had.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks again for all of the reviews, follows and faves! You guys are seriously amazing! This chapter was a little on the long side, but there was a lot of ground to cover in terms of flashing back and flashing forward. From here on out, I hope to stay mostly in the present within each chapter, though it was fun to flash back to the wedding. I know Ron was busy trying to run plays out of the book that Fred and George had given him to help him in the romance department, but I like to think that Viktor got a few dances in before he commiserated with Harry about all the good ones being taken. :)**

**As a side note, while I hope to visit Wales someday soon, for now, Google will just have to suffice**—**my apologies if I got any location details wrong!**


	4. Chapter 4: Feelings

**March 26, 1999**

Hermione was in the back of the bookstore, taking inventory of the new book shipment the store had received that morning when Melinda walked back, a conspiratorial smile on her face.

"There's a handsome young man here to see you." The older woman said, unable to hide her glee.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused as to who Melinda could possibly be referring to.

"Did they say who they were?"

Melinda shook her head, "They didn't, but if a young man who looked like _that_ came in asking for _me,_ I wouldn't ask too many questions."

The shopkeeper gave her a wink and gestured for Hermione to follow her out front. Hermione obediently stood, running through the extremely short list of who the mysterious 'young man' could be.

Hermione got her answer when she saw Charlie standing at the front of the store, intently reading the back cover of one of the books from one of the nearby shelves.

They hadn't written to one another since her trip to the sanctuary and Hermione couldn't help but feel incredibly awkward remembering how they had parted.

As if sensing her arrival, Charlie looked up and upon seeing Hermione, smiled.

Any apprehension Hermione felt instantly melted away when she saw the sincerity of his expression.

"Charlie!" She greeted walking up to him, "What a pleasant surprise."

"I was given the day off, so I decided to come down to see if you were available for lunch." He explained, setting the book he'd been inspecting back on the shelf.

"Oh! Um…" Hermione trailed off uncertainly, looking over at Melinda.

"Of course, you can go." Melinda chimed in, "You opened this morning and worked doubles all last weekend. As far as I am concerned, you can take the rest of the day for yourself as well."

Hermione stared at her boss.

While Melinda had been known to reward Hermione's hard work with surprise time off before, she knew that her work ethic wasn't the woman's only motivation in this particular instance. She just hoped that Charlie hadn't picked up the meaning behind her boss's all too knowing expression.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, "I can finish the inventory before I—"

"Go." Melinda interrupted with a wave, "Enjoy the day."

Hermione turned to look at Charlie who had been watching the exchange with a somewhat bemused look, "I'll just go and get my purse. One moment."

She walked back to the store's breakroom and grabbed her purse, heading back to the front of the store to find Charlie chatting amicably with Melinda about the latest Stephen King novel. Hermione watched them interact for a moment, noting with a strange satisfaction of how normal it looked for Charlie to be there, in an animated conversation with the woman who had become almost a secondary mother figure to her during her time in Wales.

Gathering herself, Hermione walked over to them and said her goodbyes to Melinda before she headed out with Charlie.

"So you just…got the day off?" Hermione asked as they walked to her favorite café that was conveniently just down the street from the shop.

"Well, we sort of…completed the planning phase and are ready to start testing some of the most promising proposals of our research. Well, after we finish our observational period first and collect all of our baseline data." Charlie explained, unable to keep the excitement from his voice, "I got the day and the rest of the weekend off before the real work begins on Monday and I wanted to celebrate."

"Charlie, that's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, giving him a soft nudge with her shoulder.

"Thank you." He replied, giving her a gentle nudge of his own, "I'm quite excited about it and decided it was something I wanted to tell you in person."

Hermione couldn't stop the giddy feeling fluttering in her stomach.

"How long are you here for?" She asked, unsure of what she wanted the answer to be.

"Well, I booked a night at the hostel over in the wizarding district of Cardiff again in case you were inclined to grab a few drinks later. I don't trust myself to Floo under the influence."

"That sounds great." Hermione smiled, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, "Actually, I was planning on going out with Claire and some of her friends this evening. I am sure she would be more than happy to have you join."

"And I'm excited to finally meet this Claire." He replied.

Rationally, Hermione knew Charlie had only meant that he was happy to be introduced to the friend that she'd written to him about so often in her letters. Regardless, Hermione couldn't help but feel a small pang of jealousy.

A sentiment, she thought, she had absolutely no business feeling in the first place.

They enjoyed a leisurely lunch, Hermione asking questions about the latest developments of his research and what proposals he planned on testing first. She found the way that Charlie explained his methodology entirely captivating and found herself chiming in with suggestions on how he could structure the observation process to yield the optimal results. While she was by no means anywhere close to being a dragon expert, she did know a thing or two about proper research design and methodology.

They eventually made their way back to Hermione's flat where Charlie immediately zeroed in on Hermione's new chair and ottoman in her living room.

"Excellent selection." He commented, moving to sit on the furniture in question as though he was examining it, "I know I said the place was perfect the last time I was here, but really, this does complete the space."

"Thank you!" she laughed, in slight disbelief that he'd remembered her saying that she had wanted to find those specific pieces when he had visited back in January.

'He must have very good memory.' She mused.

"I found it at the indoor flea market." She said, "Thankfully, I went with Claire who has a car that was big enough so we were able to transport it back. It would have been rather suspicious if she had seen me purchase the chair and ottoman and then traveled back with it shrunken down and contained in my pocket."

"Muggle living sounds exhausting." Charlie proclaimed as he stood back up, walking over to join Hermione in the kitchen.

"That it is." Hermione agreed, "Thankfully there's coffee."

Charlie brightened at the mention of coffee and gave the French press sitting on her kitchen counter an excited glance, "May I?"

Hermione smiled and gestured him forward, "By all means…"

She watched as Charlie went through all the steps of weighing and grinding the coffee, diverting slightly from the steps she had shown him all those weeks by bringing the kettle to an instant boil with magic.

"Cheat." She muttered.

Charlie shot her a wry grin, "I prefer the term 'efficient.'"

He filled Hermione in on George's latest invention for the shop—a howler that showered its recipient in colorful confetti—as they waited for the coffee to steep.

"Of course, I find out about this rather inventive product by actually _receiving_ one as a 'test run' or so George claimed." Charlie grumbled, "I swear I am still finding glitter in the most random places around my tent."

"I've never been so glad to be unlisted on the owl post." Hermione chuckled, "I can't even imagine how long it would take to get confetti out of my hair and I hope to never find out."

Charlie's eyes flicked to Hermione's hair as he poured their coffee, "I don't know, Granger. If anyone could pull off a sparkly mane of curls, it'd be you."

Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to downplay the slight blush she could feel creeping onto her cheeks.

She really needed to pull herself together.

"I'll just stick to Muggle post for now, thanks." She replied, gesturing to the small stack of mail she had received that week and had yet to put away.

Charlie glanced at the pile, taking it in with interest.

"That's a lovely card." Charlie commented, nodding at the formal looking stationary that struck quite a contrast with the folded sheets of plain parchment that had been covered in Harry's cramped handwriting.

Hermione froze.

"Yeah." She said in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone, "It's from…Viktor actually."

Charlie's eyebrows shot up, "Viktor Krum?"

"Yes. Viktor and I have kept up a pretty steady correspondence since the Triwizard Tournament…until recently." She explained, "Viktor didn't know that I had…left and when a letter returned to him as undeliverable via owl, he checked in with Harry to see if I was okay. Harry filled him in on the situation and…he gave Harry a card to send to me."

She looked over at Charlie only to see that his eyebrows were still raised, but a rather cheeky smirk was on his face that Hermione was immediately suspicious of.

"Don't give me that look." She stated, pursing her lips, "He was _concerned_."

"I'm sure he was." Charlie agreed, taking a sip from his coffee.

"You're being ridiculous." She scoffed.

Charlie set his cup back down on the table.

"Hermione, if there is one thing I know, it's how men operate when it comes to women."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure that Viktor was genuinely concerned about your wellbeing," he continued, "but I am also sure he is well aware of your and Ron's separation seeing as how it would be rather difficult for Harry to explain why you left—by yourself—without mentioning it."

He paused before gesturing at the stack of mail, "Hence this rather lovely card."

Crossing her arms, Hermione let out an exasperated huff, "We dated _five years_ ago. There's no way that he's—"

"Still interested?" Charlie interrupted, "Believe me, he's interested. Or at the very least, was still interested at Bill and Fleur's wedding."

At this, Hermione snapped to attention, "_What?_"

She remembered being slightly surprised to see Viktor there, but was ultimately happy to see him again and have the chance to catch up with in person. Sure, they had danced together, but she had also danced with Ron, George, and Fred that evening.

Then the Ministry fell and everything descended into chaos—she didn't even have the chance to tell Viktor good-bye.

How on Earth did Charlie get the idea that Viktor still had feelings for her?

"I got an earful from Ron about it. Before evening went to shit that is." Charlie answered.

Hermione was less than convinced, "Ron tends to overexaggerate."

"That he does." Charlie conceded, "But his jealous ramblings weren't completely unwarranted that evening."

He paused for a moment, looking at her in a way that almost made Hermione want to disappear from its sudden intensity, "You really don't see it, do you?"

Hermione frowned, "See what?"

"All the attention you get from men."

Well, that was the last thing that she had expected to hear.

"What?"

"Take today, for instance." Charlie stated, "The waiter at the café—"

"Was just being _friendly_." She interrupted.

The waiter had been very attentive to her specifically during their meal, but Hermione figured that his constant checking in and his easy cadence with her was due to the fact that she went to that particular café often. He recognized her as a regular. That was all.

"He was _flirting_ with you." Charlie countered.

"Why?"

The question popped out before Hermione could stop it and she cringed at how insecure it sounded.

"What do you mean, _why_?" Charlie asked, shifting so that he was directly facing her, leaning towards her in his chair.

For a moment Hermione was stunned by how sincerely shocked he seemed.

"You're smart, funny, kind…you're the cleverest witch I have ever met, not to mention one of the most…" he paused as though he had caught himself before he had revealed a secret.

Before Hermione could wonder what he had originally intended to say, he recovered, completely glossing over his momentary stumble, "Hermione, you have the wizarding world's David Beckham pining after you. You honestly mean to tell me that you don't think you're someone worth admiring?"

Hermione did a double take, "You know who David Beckham is?"

"I spend a good deal of my free time at a Squib pub, Hermione, remember?" He stated wryly, "I'm well aware of David Beckham."

He tilted his head, looking at her with an unplaceable expression, "_That's_ what your main takeaway from all that was?"

Hermione felt her face go warm as she thought back to what all Charlie had said, specifically the compliments he had paid her including the one that remained unsaid.

She could practically hear her heart beating as though it was rolls of thunder in her ears.

"Look." She said, taking in a deep breath to collect herself, "Viktor and I are friends despite your 'expertise' on the matter. He may…be interested, but I've moved on."

"Oh?" Charlie asked, grabbing his coffee cup again, "That waiter have a chance after all?"

Hermione shot him an unamused look right as a knock sounded on her door.

"We're done talking about this." She warned, standing up and feeling completely disoriented.

The conversation had knocked Hermione completely off kilter.

She was no stranger to being teased about her romantic prospects from a Weasley—Fred and George, specifically, had found her love life particularly entertaining—but with Charlie, it was different.

And not in a good way. It made her feel cross in a way that she couldn't quite explain.

"Hey, Hem!" Claire greeted cheerfully as Hermione opened the door, completely oblivious to her friend's mood, "I was just wondering if you wanted to start getting… oh!"

Claire's eyes widened as she peered over Hermione's shoulder, "You have company."

Hermione turned and looked at Charlie who was still sitting at the dining table, casually drinking his coffee like they hadn't just had one of the strangest conversations of their friendship.

"Charlie." He introduced, giving Claire a small salute with his coffee mug.

"Ah…" Claire said all too knowingly for Hermione's liking, "the Infamous Charlie."

Claire gave Hermione a wink as she mouthed, 'He's hot!'

Hermione once again found herself wishing that she could disappear.

"Infamous?" Charlie asked with too much interest.

"Hello, Claire." Hermione said through gritted teeth, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I was just coming over to see if you wanted to start getting ready for tonight." Claire said too innocently, "Didn't realize you had a guest."

"Charlie got the day off, so he decided to come down to Cardiff." She explained.

Claire took in this information without missing a beat.

"Hermione says that you're up doing conservation work in the Black Mountains?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe with a causal ease that Hermione envied.

"Indeed, I am." Charlie agreed, standing up and walking over to the pair.

Hermione watched as he took in her friend's appearance, secretly hating how effortless Claire's eclectic beauty always seemed.

"Is he joining us tonight?" Claire asked, giving Charlie a once over herself.

"If you're okay with a last-minute addition." Hermione answered, trying to rationalize away the tendrils of jealousy that were making a sudden reappearance.

She really needed to get herself together. 'You have absolutely no right to be jealous.' She chided herself.

"Oh, I am more than okay with it." Claire grinned, giving Hermione another wink.

She abruptly straightened and reached out to grab Hermione by the wrist, "I am sure our boy here can spare you for a few minutes. We need to get you ready."

"Go." Charlie said, waving for Hermione to follow Claire out of the apartment, "I can keep myself entertained over here."

"Great!" Claire beamed, practically pulling Hermione out the door.

"What are you—"

"I have just the dress for you to wear. Oh! I have an idea on how we should style your hair." Claire exclaimed as they entered her flat, giving Hermione's unruly hair a critical onceover.

"I don't think that I'll need—"

"Hem." Claire interrupted, with mock exasperation, "Your Prince Charming is here. Time to make you the belle of the ball."

Hermione just stared at her friend.

"He's _not_ my Prince Charming."

Claire crossed her arms, fixing Hermione with an unamused stare, "When you lie to yourself about your feelings, do you actually try to sound convincing or…?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione sighed, "There are several reasons why nothing could ever happen between Charlie and I—"

"People have dated friends and members of their ex's family before. It's not _completely_ unheard of." Claire said with equal exasperation.

"The main reason being he's not _interested_." Hermione continued stubbornly as if she was trying to convince herself more so than her friend.

She was well aware that her crush on Charlie was growing into something stronger.

However, the more she told herself that Charlie couldn't possibly be interested in her in _that_ _way_, the easier she was able to dismiss her feelings. Charlie didn't like her, so she didn't even have to think about the myriad of other reasons how starting anything romantic with him would create considerable complications.

It wasn't even remotely a possibility to begin with.

Which was probably why she had felt so thrown off by their previous conversation.

Charlie arguing that Hermione was someone worth dating—albeit in a generalized way—was not ammunition that her subconscious needed. If she wasn't careful, her thoughts could run away from her again like they had in Dref y Ddraig. Her budding friendship with him was too important for her to lose over something as inconsequential as her finding him attractive.

More importantly, any hope of repairing her friendship with Ron, not to mention her various relationships with the rest of the Weasleys—who were essentially her surrogate family—were too important to potentially implode with an ill thought-out declaration of affection to someone who didn't return her feelings in the first place.

Charlie couldn't return her feelings. Why would he?

Claire was eyeing Hermione skeptically while she remained silent.

Suddenly, Claire sighed almost as if in defeat, "Well…if he is _not_ your Prince Charming, we can at least make him _wish_ that he was."

Hermione turned to look at her friend and couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Claire always knew exactly what to say to defuse a situation.

"Come on. Come on. We don't have all day." Claire waved, grinning mischievously, "We have a dinner reservation to catch, you know."

* * *

In the immediate moments after Hermione left her apartment, Charlie mentally berated himself over his behavior.

He had acted like a jealous boyfriend, actually _scolding_ Hermione because other guys found her attractive.

Charlie grabbed a book off Hermione's shelf and sat down with a huff, extremely cross with himself.

He had no right to behave that way—no reason to even consider being jealous.

Had he started developing feelings for her? Yes, but they had only _just_ become friends. While there had been that moment right before she left Dref y Ddraig where he had thought she'd been leaning in to kiss him, it had been after an extremely long day and several rather strong ales. He had to have imagined it, because there was no way that Hermione Granger could have feelings for him.

Even if she did, she deserved better than someone who acted as he had in that moment.

Charlie had just been so thrown by the fact that she genuinely seemed to think she was anything less than remarkable.

He immediately thought back to what he had told her in Roger's office right before she left. She _truly was_ extraordinary, and it pained him to think that she didn't see it.

He needed to get a grip on himself, he thought glumly.

He had come down to Cardiff to enjoy time with a friend who he hadn't heard from since he practically made a fool of himself, making declarations to her he had no business making.

Only in the time he had been there, he acted like a jealous git and nearly told her that he thought she was beautiful.

He could only imagine how awkward _that_ could have made things.

His family knew his thoughts on how Ron and Hermione's relationship had ended—granted not with the strong language he would have preferred to use, especially now that he had seen firsthand how it had truly affected her. There was a general consensus among the Weasley siblings in particular on how abominable Ron's actions (or lack thereof in some instances) were in the months before Hermione left the Burrow. He really didn't think than anyone in their family—other than maybe his mother—were surprised when Hermione reached her breaking point with Ron. From what he'd seen and heard over the years of their friendship-turned-relationship, Charlie wasn't entirely convinced that even in the best of times the pair could have made it work.

Or maybe that was just selfish wishful thinking.

With one last mental beratement, Charlie made up his mind that as soon as Hermione returned, he would apologize.

Trying to force himself to think of other things, he opened the book he had grabbed—a translation of The Odyssey as it turned out—and began to read. It wasn't until he noticed that he had plowed through a hefty chunk of the book that he realized more than an hour had passed and Hermione still hadn't come back. He was about to set the book down to look for her when the front door opened and both Claire and Hermione entered leaving Charlie completely at loss for words.

When Charlie first met Claire, he instantly recognized that she was an extremely pretty girl. From the letters Hermione had written him, she pretty much lived up to the image that he had in his mind about Hermione's colorful neighbor. Her sparkly black dress and oversized velvet cardigan that reminded Charlie quite a lot of an unbuttoned dress robe, seemed to accentuate her small frame and reinforced the air of being an artist that she always seemed to exude.

But what had really rendered him speechless was Hermione.

While Charlie had seen Hermione in a dress before, it was _very_ different than the one he'd seen her in at Bill's wedding. For starters, it was much shorter, the hem landing just above her knees. The bodice of the dress was relatively form fitting, but the skirt flared out into pleated skirt that looked as though it was movement itself. The dress was a light, almost cream-colored pink, but seemed to have gold thread woven through it which made it shimmer when it caught the light.

Charlie could easily see how this dress could belong to Claire, but on Hermione the dress seemed less airy and fantastical and more…sophisticated.

He was quite shocked that the two girls had managed to find a Muggle means of making Hermione's hair fall straight—longer now that it was straightened and appeared almost as though it was comprised of tiny strands of silk—and had fashioned it into a sleek ponytail. Hermione's makeup was kept simple with what Charlie had come to recognize as a "smoky eye" as he'd heard his female colleges call it.

The overall effect of her look was one that made Charlie's heart beat more erratically than it ever had. Not a good thing if he was trying to keep his thoughts in order.

"You ladies sure know how to make an entrance." He stammered, when he was finally able to find his voice. He carefully set the book he had been reading down, trying his hardest not to outright gawk at the pair.

Hermione, for her part, seemed a little timid about her look, but Claire just beamed, "Just wait until we hit the dance floor after dinner."

Suddenly feeling very under-dressed, Charlie shot Hermione a look.

"Right, well, I should go change."

Hermione's eyes widened a fraction, realizing that he had no extra change of clothes. He hoped that he was able to convey that he was going to have to transfigure his current outfit.

"Of course." Hermione said, "Bathroom is just down the hall there."

"I'll be just a moment."

He quickly headed towards the restroom, trying to get his thoughts calm enough that he could successfully cast the spells he would need.

"Figures." He heard Claire mutter to Hermione, "He's left alone for over an hour and he _just now_ goes to change. Men."

He was in for an interesting night.

* * *

Dinner went by relatively quickly, but Charlie figured it was due to the fact that he was genuinely enjoying himself.

While he was used to being around Squibs and the occasional Muggle in Dref y Ddraig, it was oddly refreshing to have an evening that involved absolutely no magic. The group was comprised of Claire's friends from the art world, but just like when Hermione had visited him, she engaged in animated discussion with just about everyone in the group.

The group had quickly welcomed Charlie into their clan. He sat next to the other two guys in the group, finding that he was just as engaged in conversation as Hermione was. He answered their questions about his conservation work—as much as he could anyway—and got into discussions about whether or not Manchester United could keep their lead in the Premier League.

They eventually made it to the club where Charlie gave Hermione a questioning look upon entering.

The bright flashing lights and all white and metallic interior design choices were quite a shock on the senses. It was the last place he'd ever expect to go, let alone Hermione Granger.

She gave him a small shrug as she walked over to him, "I've learned to just accept the…interesting venue choices they always seem to pick and simply go with it."

Charlie laughed, "You come to these places often?"

"More recently than I used to."

Before Charlie could ask what she had meant by that, Claire had begun to yell and wave them over to the bar so that they could get their drinks. The group quickly claimed a booth that Charlie was relieved to find was a bit of a distance away from where the DJ was. While he considered himself to be a relatively good sport about just about anything, he had absolutely no interest in stepping one foot on the club's gaudily lit up dance floor.

He was relieved that Hermione seemed to be of similar thought and the two of them sat in the booth chatting for the majority of the evening. Hermione had wordlessly cast a sound muffling charm that not only prevented others from overhearing their conversation, it mercifully softened the club music.

"Oh, thank Merlin." Charlie sighed, rubbing his ears as his hearing adjusted to the lower decibel.

"It comes in handy quite a bit when I get dragged out on the weekends." Hermione chuckled.

"They're a fun group." Charlie commented, looking out at the dance floor which the group had made quick work of conquering.

He made a face, "Perhaps too much fun."

"Perhaps." Hermione agreed, looking out at her friends with a smile, "It's nice being with people who don't…"

She paused and Charlie saw her smile falter for just a fraction of a second.

He knew what she had been about to say.

'People who don't know.'

What she had desperately needed in the weeks after the Dark Lord was defeated was something to latch onto, a sense of normalcy after all of the truly horrific things she'd had to endure. Unable to find it at the Burrow, she left and found it in Muggle Cardiff of all places—but to Charlie it made perfect sense. She needed to go somewhere where she could shed the title of Hermione Granger, War Hero and all of the emotional baggage that went along with it.

Which was why he had instructed his coworkers not to say anything to Hermione about the Wizarding War or her part in it. It was her first foray back into the magical world and the last thing he wanted was for Hermione to be inundated with questions she couldn't answer or with praise she didn't want to receive.

He simply wanted her to see the magic of…well, magic again.

But his visit to Cardiff had shown him the 'magic' of her Muggle life. She had surrounded herself with people who saw her need for help and freely gave it to her, no questions asked. Hermione's boss Melinda had given her a means to support herself and arranged for her to find a place to live without a moment's hesitation. That simple act of kindness led her to meet Claire who seemed to have a knack of defusing tense situations with humor and gently push for Hermione to reach beyond her comfort zone.

Before Charlie really knew Hermione, he would have never imagined she would have surrounded herself with such curious people, but after getting to know her and seeing how much she had healed after the war…this unconventional fellowship was just what she needed.

She was surrounded by people who had no expectations, no idea that she had carried the weight of the world on her shoulders for far longer than anyone should have to.

Hermione could be herself, unguarded.

He'd seen a difference in her when she had visited him from when he'd first seen her in January and he had continued to notice more small differences in her throughout the day.

Her smiles came easier. She never seemed lost in thought—staying fully present in her current surroundings. He'd noticed a couple times when they had been at the pub before she left Dref y Ddraig that she would sometimes retreat within herself when she was no longer engaged in conversation. It hinted at a loneliness that he no longer saw in her. She'd jumped from conversation to conversation effortlessly during dinner and stayed engaged when she listened to others in their group talk.

So he sat in the booth, simply content to listen to Hermione animatedly talk about what she'd been up to since her visit to the sanctuary—funny encounters with customers at the bookstore, her agreeing to go out with the group more for dinner and drinks, hearing about her correspondence with Harry and Ginny.

"I've invited them to come visit when Ginny is done at Hogwarts." Hermione said, beaming, "I think…I think they'd enjoy a weekend in Cardiff."

Charlie grinned, "I think so to…maybe don't bring them here, though."

Hermione nearly choked on the sip she had taken from her glass of wine, "Can you imagine Harry _here_?" she glanced out to where the group was on the dance floor, "Or there?"

They laughed and Hermione started running through places she thought she would take them when they visited, casually mentioning that some of those places were ones she'd been wanting to show him as well. Charlie couldn't stop his heart from pounding harder every time she would nonchalantly mention what they would do the next time he was in town.

Because she wanted there to be a next time.

Before he could ruminate too much on this revelation, Hermione excused herself to use the restroom.

As Charlie adjusted to the loss of the sound dampening charm, Claire slid into the booth.

"Sure we can't convince you two to join us out there?" she asked, her cheeks flushed from exertion and what Charlie was assuming was her third or fourth cocktail.

"Positive." He said with an apologetic smile.

They sat there in a comfortable silence before Claire rested her chin on her hand and gave Charlie a less than subtle appraisal. It was a look he immediately recognized from his sister, usually when she was about to interrogate him.

"So how long have you and Hermione known each other?"

Charlie immediately didn't like where this conversation was headed.

"Technically, 8 years." He answered, choosing his words carefully. He wasn't sure how much she knew about Hermione's past or if what Hermione had told her was even the truth.

"She's best friends with my sister Ginny and she…" he paused, unsure of what all he should say, "…was close with my youngest brother while they were together at school."

"Ron?" Claire asked, her voice entirely too innocent.

"That's the one." He replied, desperately wishing for Hermione to return soon.

How much did Claire know?

"Interesting that you didn't take your brother's side in the breakup."

'Ah.' He thought as he took an uncomfortable sip of his beer, 'She knew enough.'

"I love my brother," He stated cautiously, knowing full well what Claire was up to. He'd seen Amy behave in a similar way when she had tried to set him up with another one of their colleagues back in Romania.

Claire was fishing for his feelings.

Considering that he was only beginning to fully understand the depth of them himself, he needed to tread lightly.

"Ron…didn't handle the end of that relationship well." It was far too judicious of a statement, but without knowing what specifics Claire knew about the situation, he didn't think he could speak in anything other than generalizations.

Besides, Ron was his brother and as frustrating and clueless as he could be, Charlie still loved him and wasn't about to castigate him to someone he'd only just met.

"I'm not sure what all Hermione has told you about it, but—"

"Your brother wasn't there for her when she needed him." Claire said, shifting in her seat as she took a sip from her cocktail.

"Not in the way she needed him to be." He conceded.

He looked down at his beer and focused intently on it, "None of us were."

"Hmm."

Charlie looked up at her, frowning a little at her noncommittal utterance, "What?"

"It's…" She began, her eyes flicking up to something over Charlie's shoulder, "It's just good that you're here for her now. She won't admit it, not even to herself, but…she's needed you. You've been good for her."

Charlie opened his mouth to ask her what she had meant by that statement, but immediately closed it when he heard Hermione return.

"Back!" She greeted, walking up to the table from behind Charlie.

Charlie slowly turned to look at her, Claire's word's roaring in his ears. What had she meant?

Hermione had needed him? Could Hermione….

He immediately slammed the breaks on that line of thinking, not wanting to even entertain it.

Hermione Granger could do far better for herself than a perpetually nomadic dragon keeper and besides…who was he to come in and upend the peace she had only just found for herself? She had spent the last seven months on her own, rebuilding her life from scratch, healing from the damage that the Wizarding War had done to her and the damage resulting from the fallout of her relationship with Ron.

_Merlin, Ron!_

There was no way Charlie would even consider blowing up her life with the complications that would arise out of this.

Besides, this was assuming that Hermione even had feelings for him. Which she didn't. She couldn't.

Why would she?

While their friendship had grown and flourished in a relatively short amount of time, Charlie chalked it up to him being the only person from her past that had accidently wandered into her new life. As such, their friendship rose out of accidental convenience—nothing more.

Regardless of whatever it was that he was beginning to feel towards Hermione, nothing more than friendship could ever arise from it.

He was a horrible brother for even half considering it.

"Finally!" Claire yelled out when it became clear that Charlie wasn't going to speak, "I know Charlie here is unmovable on the point, but it is time for you to get on the dance floor. Come on, Hem! That dress was made for twirling."

Hermione looked to Charlie for backup, but Charlie didn't trust himself not to say anything foolish if he was left alone with Hermione while his mind was in scrambles.

"Someone needs to watch the bags." He said, giving Hermione an apologetic shrug.

"Oh, I see how it is." Hermione said, placing her hands on her hips as though she was going to scold him, but the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth gave her away, "I leave for five minutes and the two of you are already conspiring against me."

Claire laughed and started to pull Hermione away from the table and towards the group back on the dance floor. Hermione gave Charlie a halfhearted eye roll before she turned to follow Claire.

Charlie watched as Hermione began to dance, awkwardly at first, but quickly finding her rhythm and getting into the song that was blasting throughout the club. His mind was a tornado of conflicting emotions, but two things became abundantly clear.

First, Claire was correct—Hermione's dress was made for twirling.

Second, Charlie realized that he was in very real danger of finding himself falling in love with Hermione Granger.

* * *

The walk back to Hermione's apartment was relatively quiet.

The group had stayed out until the club closed and Charlie offered to walk with her and Claire to make sure that they got home safely.

Hermione didn't realize how cold the night was going to get and while the brisk night air was welcome at first—the temperature of the crowded club had nearly become too much towards the end—she quickly began to shiver and rub her hands over her arms in an attempt to keep herself warm. Her admittedly short dress and lack of proper sleeves were doing her no favors.

They had turned a corner only a few blocks away from the club when Hermione felt something warm drape across her shoulders. She immediately registered that it was Charlie's leather coat and turned to protest.

"Won't you be cold?" She asked.

He had been wearing a rather worn flannel shirt when he had first met up with her that day, but he had transfigured it into a rather smart looking black button up shirt that dressed up his dark wash jeans. He didn't look cold, but Hermione still felt bad that he should be deprived of his jacket because of her lack of foresight.

Charlie gave her a shrug, "I don't mind."

Hermione faced forward, pulling the larger overcoat around herself, grateful for the warmth it provided. Before she could stop herself, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of Charlie's jacket. It was an undeniably masculine combination of smells that Hermione instantly tried to place.

The earthy vibrancy of forest air after a recent rainfall, the leathery smell of old-books, and a slight smokiness as though he'd attended a bonfire a while ago, but the scent of smoke hadn't completely faded away.

Hermione found the combination very comforting, smiling as she exhaled.

She opened her eyes to find Claire looking over at her with a very pleased look.

Realizing what she had done and how it must have looked to her friend, Hermione tucked her chin to her chest, hoping that Charlie hadn't noticed since he was behind the pair.

When they finally reached their apartment building, Hermione moved to hand Charlie his coat back, but he waved her off.

"It's a quick trip back to the hostel." He explained giving Hermione a knowing look.

He was going to apparate once Claire and Hermione went inside.

"You can give it back to me tomorrow at breakfast."

Hermione smiled and nodded, "Sounds good."

"See you around 9?" Charlie asked.

"See you around 9." Hermione confirmed, "Just come here and we can walk over to that bakery I showed you when you were here last."

"Ah, yes." Charlie said with sly grin, "The one with the best pastries."

Hermione blinked. How had he remembered that?

She quickly recovered and gave him a curt not, "That's the one."

"It was nice meeting you, Claire." Charlie said to her friend before turning his attention to Hermione, "Goodnight, Granger. I'll see you tomorrow."

He turned to walk away and Hermione turned to focus on getting the door to the apartment's front entryway unlocked, so that she and Claire could go inside and Charlie could apparate.

The pair were halfway up the main stairs when Claire let out a low whistle that practically made Hermione jump.

"Chivalrous too? Nice work, Hem."

Hermione turned to face her friend, not quite getting what her friend was saying.

It had been a rather long night and with every step that brought her closer to her apartment—and more importantly her bed—she found that her eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. She was so close to being able to fall asleep, she could practically feel herself snuggled under the covers.

"Excuse me?"

"He's the complete package, that one." Claire continued, "Nice, polite, so attractive that it quite literally _hurts_ to look at him…"

And just like that, Hermione was very much wide awake.

"Oh, come on!" She exclaimed as she reached the landing.

"He's a looker, Hem." Claire pressed, "You'd be a liar if you said you didn't agree."

Hermione turned to face her friend as she reached the top step, "For the hundredth time, I am not interested in Charlie."

Claire lifted one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows, but Hermione continued on, "More importantly Charlie is not interested in me."

"You sure about that?" Claire asked, crossing her arms.

Hermione was taken slightly aback, "What are you—"

"Why is it again," Claire began taking a step closer to Hermione, "that he traveled all the way down on his first weekend off to visit the ex-girlfriend of his kid-brother?"

Hermione hadn't thought about it that way.

"He's…" she stuttered, "We're friends."

"Yes…a friend that you almost _kissed_ two weeks ago."

"I am sure I read too much into it." Hermione muttered, feeling her cheeks warm, "He wasn't…we weren't…"

"He's totally interested in you, Hermione." Claire finished, as though she were calmly stating the most obvious fact in the world, "And you're interested in him too. The sooner both of you admit it, the happier both of you will be."

Hermione stood there unable to find words. Was Charlie interested in her?

Had she been completely oblivious or had she simply rationalized her way out of all the signals. She was, after all, standing there with his jacket draped around her.

"It's complicated."

Claire paused to think for a moment before replying, "It's only as complicated as you make it, Hem."

"He's Ron's brother."

"I mean, it's not the ideal scenario, but the two of you could make it work, Hem." Claire replied softly, "I'm sure of it."

They stood in the hallway between their two apartments in silence for a few moments, Hermione reeling from the fact that Charlie—Charlie Weasley—could have feelings for her and that she…

…she definitely had feelings for him. Feelings stronger than a simple crush and could very well turn into love.

Hermione looked up at Claire, at a loss for what to say.

Claire reached out and gave her arm a sympathetic squeeze before a cheeky grin slowly spread across her face, "It really is a pity."

Sensing that Claire was up to something, Hermione gave her a cautious look.

"I would've liked to have had a go at him, but seeing as how he's off limits..." Claire trailed up with a wink.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"You do realize that it will be impossible for me to look at him ever again." She asked, her cheeks burning.

Claire smirked.

"Your eyes don't have to be open to snog."

"Oh my god…" Hermione groaned, turning on her heels to unlock her apartment door before Claire could get any more barbs in, "Good night!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update. I started writing a chapter that was supposed to be posted before this one and realized that it didn't quite fit nor did it really add anything and decided to chuck it and head straight on to this one…and once again, my typing got away with me! Hopefully the length of this chapter will excuse its tardiness. **

**As always, thank you to everyone who favorites and follows this story and a special shout out to those of you who leave reviews. It's always a delight to read them and hear your thoughts and questions. They really mean a lot!**


	5. Chapter 5: Confessions

**March 27, 1999**

Hermione stood outside of the flower shop waiting for Charlie to arrive, his jacket neatly folded and draped over her crossed arms.

The morning was still rather crisp as winter seemed to be making its last defiant stand against spring, but unlike the previous night, Hermione was prepared. She had opted for a more practical outfit of jeans, an over-sized crimson jumper over a plain white tee, with a chunky gray scarf that she had knitted for herself completing her snug look. She had thrown her hair—which was miraculously still straight—into a messy bun before heading out of her apartment.

Hermione had forced herself not to put any extra effort into her look, the phrase _'He's just a friend'_ running through her head on repeat as she got ready. It had taken over an hour for her mind to calm down enough to sleep after her conversation with Claire. She went through all her past encounters with Charlie—from their first dinner together back in January to their intense farewell in Roger's office the other week. At one point she had gotten out of bed and rummaged through the box she kept the letters that she'd received since moving to Cardiff, scanning his for any clues that she may have missed.

Or intentionally ignored.

Hermione would be the first to admit that she'd pretty much fallen into her past relationships—all two of them. She had been completely blindsided by Viktor's affection—no one had ever been interested in her romantically before him. She and Ron danced around their feelings until the threat of imminent death forced the pair to confront them.

So when it came to trying to figure out whether or not someone returned her feelings—in peacetime and with no magical tournament fostering international magical relations—she was at quite the loss.

Hermione briefly allowed her mind to wonder what exactly would happen if she and Charlie did get involved—assuming that the impossible happened and Claire was right in her suspicions.

Harry would undoubtedly be concerned having seen the fallout of her heart being broken twice at close range, but she didn't think that Harry would be mad.

Hermione regarded Harry as though he were her brother and she knew he considered their bond similarly. She supposed that he would act as any brother would when a guy took an interest in their sister. But because that guy would happen to be Charlie, she was certain that Harry would be protective of not only just her, but of Ron as well.

As long as she was happy, Hermione knew that Harry would not only accept the relationship but would support it as well.

Eventually.

Ginny, Hermione had a feeling, would take less time than Harry to recover from the shock of the relationship. The pair of them had spent many hours gossiping about boys during the holiday breaks they had spent together as they matured into young adults. Hermione was well versed in her friend's thoughts of 'damn what everyone thinks, love is love,' though she would undoubtedly tease Hermione about fancying _another_ one of her brothers.

Though Ginny had been sad when Hermione and Ron had broken things off, Ginny had since made it clear in her letters that as much as she loved Ron, she placed the blame for how things had gone squarely on her brother's shoulders. Like Harry, Ginny would only want Hermione to be happy.

Ron would be furious. There was no other way around it.

Part of why Hermione left when she did was that she knew if their relationship had continued any longer, the guilt and betrayal they had felt towards each other would turn to resentment and anger. It would have simmered until it reached a boiling point that their friendship would not have been able to survive.

As much as Hermione wanted to repair her friendship with Ron, dating his brother would undo any of the healing that had taken place during their time apart. She wasn't sure she could live her life knowing that there was a possibility that Ron would never be a part of it again.

_'Charlie is just a friend.'_ Hermione thought, closing her eyes as she tried to get her breathing under control, _'There is no use in fretting about any of this. He's just a friend.'_

_'A friend who has made you feel happier than you have in far too long.'_ A voice in her mind that sounded annoyingly like Claire pointed out, _'A friend who could be more if you let him. If you let yourself.'_

Would it be so terrible if she did?

Before she could continue that train of thought, Hermione heard the telltale pop of apparition.

With a renewed sense of focus, she opened her eyes to see Charlie round the corner from the alleyway that was two shops down. She offered him a small smile as she held out his jacket. While Hermione didn't think he looked cold in his grey crew-neck sweater—the fit of which, she noted, made trying to think of him in only platonic terms rather difficult—she wanted the garment out of her possession.

She liked the scent of it entirely too much.

"Good morning." She greeted, hoping the words sounded as nonchalant as she wanted them to.

"Morning." He replied, accepting the outstretched garment and throwing it on.

As they walked in companionable silence to the café, Hermione wracked her brain of something to say that wouldn't completely betray the emotional turmoil she'd been in for the better half of the last twelve hours. Over the ten-minute walk, she ultimately came up with nothing, sighing in frustration as she held the door to the café open for him once they had arrived.

"Alright, Granger." Charlie said as they walked up to the pastry display, his face grave "Which one of these should I order?"

It took a second for Hermione to comprehend what he had asked in such a serious manner. She looked up at him as he gazed down at the pastries as though they were the most important things in the world.

"I more of a fruit tart man myself, but that pain au chocolat looks incredible." He continued, unable to completely hide his grin and thus giving away his game, "I defer to your expert opinion here."

Hermione smiled. He made it so easy.

The two of them debated on the various merits of each of the pastries, Hermione offering her thoughts on the ones that she had already tried and knew she loved while also making suggestions based on Charlie's preferences. The pain au chocolat was, indeed, incredible, but if Charlie preferred fruit tarts, then he seriously needed to consider the apricot pinwheel or the puff pastry pear tart instead.

They ultimately decided to order two pastries each and share.

Hermione led him over to her favorite table that was tucked away in the corner of the shop but held the best window view that overlooked the rolling hills of the neighborhood. Their conversation stayed almost exclusively on their meal as if Charlie had sensed Hermione's need to stick to a topic that was light.

"Good call on that pinwheel." Charlie commented as he popped the last bit of his share of the pastry into his mouth, "That was absolutely delicious."

"Told you." She smirked over her cup of coffee, leaning back triumphantly in her chair.

"Is there a subject that you don't excel at?" he teased.

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but she knew he had seen.

Done with their breakfast, they stood and walked towards the café's entrance.

"Alright, what's wrong?" asked as soon as they stepped through the doors.

Hermione turned to look at him, wrapping her scarf in a tighter coil around her neck now that they were back outside.

"Nothing is wrong," she began, "I'm just tired from last night is all."

He arched an eyebrow, completely unconvinced, "Hermione, I know you better than that. _Something_ is going on in that mind of yours."

"Really, Charlie." She sighed, almost resigned, "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." He said, grabbing her hands, "Not if it upsets you this much."

Hermione stared down at her hands, neatly nestled between his. She hated how perfectly they fit.

She needed to leave.

The chances of her doing something incredibly stupid were increasing the longer they stood there holding hands—with Charlie looking down at her with _that_ expression. The one where he was concerned but determined not to let her go without knowing what it was that was troubling her.

But he couldn't figure it out. Not without completely changing everything.

"It was good to see you, Charlie!" She blurted, making the executive decision to pull her hands out of his and made a move to leave.

Her plan almost worked.

She had completely turned away from him, but he'd kept a hold of her right hand. She hadn't counted on his grip being so firm and was completely surprised when she found herself stumbling back towards him rather awkwardly.

With surprisingly fast reflexes—somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind she remembered someone mentioning to her that he had been a fairly good Quidditch player—Charlie steadied her before she could crash into him. Hermione felt her cheeks warm as she searched her mind for something to say.

How on Earth was she going to explain her frantic attempt at a goodbye?

She had to have looked completely mad.

Embarrassed, she looked up at him, unsure of what to say, but any thought of speaking was quickly forgotten when she met his gaze. As soon as Hermione's eyes met his, she knew with perfect clarity that she had not imagined or read too much into anything that night in Dref y Ddraig.

She wasn't sure which one of them closed the distance—however small it was—between them.

One moment they were staring at each other, asking one another the same silent question.

The next, they were kissing, finally finding their answer.

Despite the lack of relationships in her life up until that point, Hermione had experienced her fair share of dramatic kisses. Viktor had surprised her with an especially passionate kiss in the med tent after the Tournament's second task when they'd finally gotten a moment to themselves after he had pulled her from the lake. Hermione and Ron had shared a heated kiss at Hogwarts before the Battle began, the pair of them giddy from the adrenaline rush of destroying Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Ron's suggestion of freeing Hogwarts's house elves.

But this kiss with Charlie was something completely different.

Though there was no imminent threat or underlying danger—they were standing on a sidewalk outside of a café on an otherwise dreary morning—the intensity of their embrace was unlike anything Hermione had previously experienced. Her body burned as though it was on fire, but she found herself wrapping an arm around Charlie's neck, pulling herself further into the flame. She felt Charlie's arm wrap around her waist in response, securing her body against his in a move that made Hermione gasp from its intimacy.

"_Oh._" She breathed, staring into his piercing blue eyes that she swore had suddenly become a shade darker.

That time, it was Hermione who leaned in, crashing her lips against Charlie's once more.

As though they should have never parted in the first place.

Hermione wasn't sure how long they remained lost in each other's embrace. It could have been five seconds. It could have been five minutes. All she knew was that she never wanted it to end.

A passing car honked its horn at the pair and it was as though they had been doused with a bucket of ice.

Hermione pulled away, practically throwing herself as far from Charlie as she could in one step.

They stood there frozen from shock at what had just happened, their faces still flush with the need they had felt only seconds before.

Hermione found her words first.

"I…I've got to go." She stammered, pulling her gaze away from his.

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away at a clipped pace, tears running down her cheeks. Within seconds, she heard Charlie disapparate, the sound of it more like a crack of thunder instead of the usual pop of magic.

What had they just done?

* * *

Charlie stormed into his tent at the Ddraig Sanctuary, his mind buzzing from what had just transpired.

He'd apparated back to the hostel in Cardiff after Hermione had fled, grabbing his bag and heading through the hostel's floo connection to get back to Roger's office. Mercifully, Roger wasn't at his desk and Charlie was able to leave without running into the pub's cheery owner.

He was in no state to talk to anyone.

What had they just done?

He threw his bag down and let out a frustrated huff. He should have let Hermione walk away.

Why hadn't he just let her walk away?

He had no idea what had possessed him to grab onto her hand. He only knew that something was wrong and that he wanted to make it right.

Instead he had messed everything up.

Charlie sat down on his bed with a thud, dropping his head into his hands as he furiously ran his fingers through his hair.

He hadn't even thought about it.

He had reached out to right Hermione so she didn't knock them to the ground and then almost just as quickly as he had steadied her, he was kissing her.

Merlin, that _kiss_.

Throughout the previous night, he had tried to convince himself that his newly realized feelings for Hermione was partially due to the fact that she had been done up next to him the entire evening, looking impossibly good in that twirly pink dress. But when he saw her standing outside of her apartment building in an over-sized sweater and giant scarf he'd assumed she'd made herself (he vaguely recalled seeing Ginny wearing one very similar one Christmas), her hair piled on top of her head without thought, he knew that she could be covered in mud and he would still find her the most striking witch he had ever seen.

He could tell something was off with her from the beginning.

When she didn't immediately come out with what was bothering her, he coaxed her into conversation, hoping that she would eventually feel comfortable enough to tell him what was going on.

But she hadn't.

All Charlie thought of in the moment when Hermione had first turned to leave was that he never wanted to see her walk away from him anything less than happy. So, he kept a grip on her hand and when she stumbled back towards him, her body so tantalizing close to his, he acted on pure instinct.

That spark he had felt back in Dref y Ddraig had been there between them again. He searched Hermione's eyes and knew, much to his shock, that she felt it too.

In all of the scenarios he had run through during his nearly sleepless night, he had never imagined that kissing Hermione would feel quite like _that_. In the past, he'd had his fair share of romantic trysts—his siblings didn't refer to him as a perpetual bachelor for nothing—but that kiss with Hermione was a first for him.

The moment his lips met hers, he felt something within him snap into place. Almost as if he had found something that he didn't know was missing, but now that he had discovered what it was, he couldn't fathom living without it again.

Which was why his current state of panic was quickly beginning to escalate.

While he'd really only come to know Hermione in the last three months, their friendship had quickly become one of the most important ones in his life. Somewhere along the way his feelings had grown into something more and in trying to ignore them, had only made them more persistent until…

…until he potentially ruined everything that morning by selfishly taking something he wanted without any thought of the consequences.

And then Hermione ran away from him.

He groaned as he flopped back onto his bed, scrubbing a hand down his face.

Charlie would never forget the look on her face as she had turned to flee.

Surprise, confusion, interest, and horror all in one heartbreaking expression. He knew it was only a matter of moments before she would start to cry and he couldn't bear to watch knowing that he was the cause of her tears.

So he did the cowardly thing and left.

_'A banner morning for Charlie Weasley.'_ He thought, cross with himself.

_'But she kissed you back.'_ Another voice in his head pointed out.

Charlie sat, thinking over the kiss for what had to have been the hundredth time.

Had she really kissed him back? Or had she simply reacted on instinct like he had and regretted it?

He stood and began pacing his tent, running through scenarios of a different kind, trying to formulate what he should say to her to make the situation right. By the time noon rolled around, he knew that he had to go back to Cardiff.

He shouldn't have even left. He should have run after her to apologize—grovel if he had to.

Anything to fix what he had so unceremoniously broken.

He strode out of his tent and began the walk to town, needing the exercise to burn off all his restless energy.

The pub was filled with its usual lunchtime patrons, but Charlie made a beeline for Roger's office.

He was so focused on his destination, he didn't notice the man himself appear beside him.

"Bout time you showed up."

Charlie stopped mid-stride, turning to look at the barkeeper who was looking back at him with his arms crossed, shooting Charlie an unamused look.

"Pardon?" Charlie asked, confused as to what Roger had meant. He had the whole weekend off and his coworkers had known that he would be spending a good portion of it in Cardiff. There was no reason for anyone to be expecting his presence at the pub.

"Poor lass has been waiting for you all morning." Roger replied nodding at someone who was sitting just to his left.

Charlie slowly turned to look and instantly felt all the air leave his lungs.

There sitting by herself at the table they had shared when she'd last visited was Hermione Granger.

"Hermione…" He breathed, unsure of what to say.

The speech he had prepared as he paced his tent seemed utterly useless.

"Charlie…" she began, looking almost as uncertain as he felt, "We should talk."

Unable to speak, he simply nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps…somewhere private?" She asked.

The hesitation within the question snapped Charlie out of his daze.

"Yes. Of course. We could…discuss things at my place?" He asked.

Hermione nodded and the two of them solemnly walked out of the pub. Charlie sent a quick patronus to Amy, asking her to add Hermione's name to the list of the day's approved sanctuary visitors so that by the time they reached the wards, they were both able to walk through without incident.

During the walk, the two remained silent. It was as if by unspoken agreement they knew that once they started their discussion, they wouldn't be able to stop until a resolution—in whatever form it took—was reached.

They eventually made it to his tent and Charlie instantly set various sound proofing and do not disturb charms around the place not wishing his coworkers—who were no doubt wondering about Hermione's impromptu visit—to walk in on whatever intense conversation the pair of them were about to have.

Hermione stood a few steps away from the tent's main entrance taking in her surroundings as Charlie set the charms.

It was the one place he hadn't shown her during her visit to the sanctuary.

He sent up a quick word of thanks that during his manic pacing that morning, he'd tidied up a little, his nervous energy manifesting itself in bursts of organization.

The tent itself was standard issue. Immediately in front of the tent's entrance was a living area that Charlie had furnished with a sofa, sitting chair, and bookshelf that was full of the books that he'd brought with him and had since purchased during his time in Wales. To the right was the kitchen nook that had a small ice box that sat next to a simple sideboard which provided some counter space as well as storage—the lower shelves cluttered with various kitchen items. On the opposite side of the tent was his bedroom nook which was relatively sparse considering it only had his bed, a night stand, and a small wardrobe.

After her initial sweep, Hermione turned back to face the kitchen nook, seemingly fixated on something. Satisfied with the privacy charms, Charlie craned his neck to see what it was that she was looking at and saw that she was staring rather intently on the French press that he'd purchased in Cardiff after he had seen it in action in her apartment.

They stood in silence for a moment, before Charlie could no longer keep the two words he'd been agonizing over all morning.

"I'm sorry." He blurted out.

Hermione tensed, which Charlie immediately took as a bad sign.

_'Great.'_ He thought, _'Here I go making things even worse.'_

Slowly, she turned around and looked at him, her forehead furrowed in confusion.

"What on Earth do _you_ have to be sorry for?"

It took all of Charlies control not to let out a bark of nervous laughter at the unexpected response.

"I'm sorry that I kissed you." He confessed, "I'm sorry that I put you in this situation."

"Well, I'm not."

Charlie practically did a double take, "You…_what_?"

"I'm not sorry that you kissed me." she stated matter-of-factly in the way that only Hermione Granger could.

Charlie would have found it endearing had the topic at hand not made the moment quite surreal.

"I'm not sure what any of this means," she continued, her voice slightly more hesitant, "but I do know that you should not be sorry. Not for that. _Never_ for that."

"But there are so many reasons why we can't…why we shouldn't…" he began, alarmed to find that he had all but forgotten his prepared speech.

"I know." Hermione agreed, looking down at the floor, "But I think…"

She let out a sigh and looked up to meet his gaze.

"I think I am finally done telling myself that I don't deserve the things that make me happy. That I don't deserve the things that I want."

Charlie instantly stood a little straighter, his breath hitching at her words.

"And what…" he began slowly, "is it that you want?"

As an answer, Hermione closed the distance between the two of them with one quick step.

This time, they both leaned in.

All the things Charlie had intended to say suddenly seemed so insignificant.

The only thing that mattered was that Hermione was choosing to be happy.

With him.

* * *

For the second time that day, Hermione lost track of time, completely caught up in the moment. At some point, they had managed to make their way over to his sofa, never breaking apart for more than a second. Now that they had finally admitted their feelings to one another—and more importantly to themselves—it seemed as though they were making up for it.

Considering the mental agony she had put herself through over the past few weeks when it came to her guilt over her feelings for Charlie, she couldn't help but feel like she should be more alarmed about what they were currently doing, yet she found that she was completely at peace. She had made it back to her apartment and remained there for all of ten minutes before she walked over to her fireplace and headed to Dref y Ddraig. She had looked around her apartment and had suddenly felt so alone—a way she hadn't felt since January 1st.

And it was in that moment that she realized that what was done was done. They had crossed a line and their friendship would never be the same. Whatever this was between them had decidedly gone well past friendship, but it wasn't as terrifying as she had thought it would be. In fact, it had felt like it was the most natural thing in the world. And as she stood there alone in her apartment, she knew that Claire had been right all along.

_'It's only as complicated as you make it.'_

She had been so concerned about the repercussions of what would happen if she was honest with how she felt towards Charlie, what Hermione had never factored into the equation before was that she wouldn't have to face them alone. He would be with her.

She smiled at the thought.

Charlie pulled away and gave her a bemused look.

"And what, pray tell, is so amusing?"

"Nothing." Hermione shook her head slightly, searching for the right words, "It's just that…for something that seemed so…consequential, this feels so…_right_."

Charlie's expression softened as he reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

"I know exactly what you mean."

They sat in silence for a moment, both knowing that a more serious conversation was in order, but neither knowing how to start it.

"So…" He began, offering Hermione a small smile as he settled back against the sofa.

"So…" she replied, with a chuckle at the situation's inherent awkwardness.

Where should they even begin?

Steeling herself, Hermione took in a deep breath.

"Before…we talk about what…_this_ is." She stated, slightly surprised at how calm she sounded, "Can we agree to be completely honest with one another? Even if it might make the conversation…uncomfortable at times?"

Charlie nodded.

She took in another calming breath before she continued.

"Charlie, these past three months have been some of the happiest I've ever had. This…our friendship…it means a lot." She faltered, wincing at how suddenly unsure she sounded, "You make me feel…"

Hermione huffed, frustrated by her lack of eloquence. She'd never in her life been at such a loss for words.

"You don't see who I used to be." She took in a shaky breath, "You don't see what you wish I was or what I could have been had things gone different during the war. You see _me_."

She snuck a nervous look down to her lap where Charlie's hands had settled over hers.

"I like you, Charlie. Quite a lot and I don't think I can just be friends with you anymore. I don't...I don't want to be just friends with you any more."

They sat there for a moment, Hermione's declaration settling around them before Charlie spoke.

"Hermione, if we do this…" he paused, looking almost pained, "What about Ron?"

And there it was.

Hermione deflated a little as the topic they had been tip toeing around came front and center.

"He's going to hate me." She sighed pulling her hands out of his and placing them over her face.

"Not as much as he's going to hate me." Charlie muttered.

Hermione looked at him, panicked, "Charlie, I don't…you can't…your family is too important. I can't be the reason why—"

"Easy there, Granger." Charlie murmured, gently resting his hands on her shoulders, "It'll be alright. We'll figure it out."

He paused, "Whatever this is."

"What do you want it to be?" Hermione asked, once again suddenly unsure of herself.

"Hermione…I...haven't felt this way about anyone before." He said, his confession causing Hermione's heart to skip a beat, "I honestly didn't know you could feel this way about someone. I was content with…the _casualness_ of my past relationships, but I know that this…"

He cleared his throat, as he thought over what he was going to say next. Hermione had never seen Charlie this nervous about anything.

A dragon keeper too nervous to speak. Had the situation not been completely nerve wracking, she would have found it rather endearing.

"Hermione, if this continues, it has to be serious." He stated, "There is too much at stake for it not to be. For you and for me."

Hermione nodded solemnly, "No pressure."

He gave her a sad smile, "No pressure."

Hermione watched as he took both of her hands into his once more and raised them up to his lips.

"Lucky for you, I happen to handle myself pretty well under pressure."

Hermione smiled. He made it so easy.

Releasing her hands, he leaned back on the sofa, looking at her thoughtfully, "Eight years we've known one another, but these last few months…you really snuck up on me, Granger."

"The feeling's mutual." Hermione chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"What do you say we go on our first official date?" he asked, standing up and holding a hand out to her.

Hermione looked at the proffered hand and couldn't help but feel that this moment—despite everything that had just been said, despite the morning's kiss that had started it all—this was the decision that would change everything.

She grinned, placing her hand in his.

"I would love nothing more."

* * *

**Author's Note: And they're off! This one was a doozy to write, trying to hit all of the right emotional notes without things feeling too rushed or being drawn out while still letting Hermione and Charlie be…Hermione and Charlie. Hope I was able to do it justice and that you enjoyed the chapter! **


	6. Chapter 6: Love and Happiness

**May 28, 1999**

For the first time in as long as Hermione could remember, time was moving entirely too fast.

She supposed that's what happened when you were entirely too happy.

They quickly fell into a routine, her and Charlie spending nearly every weekend with one another, alternating between her apartment in Cardiff and his living quarters in Dref y Ddraig. Charlie continued to show her around sanctuary during her weekends up north and she became fast friends with the rest of the sanctuary staff that she had met at the pub during her first trip. She had even started reading some of his dragonology texts when they would spend a quiet night together in his tent, becoming increasingly fascinated with his work—much to Charlie's amusement.

For his part, Charlie all but instantly integrated into Hermione's life in Cardiff, going out with her group of friends to various bars and clubs to the point where it was just expected that he would join the group whenever he was visiting the Welsh capital. Sometimes if he got into town early enough, Charlie would swing by the bookstore towards the end of Hermione's shifts, helping Melinda out with various tasks and minor repairs—which he would pretend to do the Muggle way until the older woman left the room and he would actually fix with a quick mending charm. Charlie practically had celebrity status as far as Melinda was concerned—much to Hermione's amusement.

About halfway through their first month of dating, Charlie had purchased a Muggle mobile phone after Claire had walked into Hermione's apartment and nearly caught them conversing via Floo. Instead of thinking that her neighbor was insane for talking to her fireplace, Claire thought Hermione was mad for having a fire going during a particularly balmy week in April—something that was much easier for Hermione to live with. The purchase of the mobile phone had the added benefit of making it easier for Charlie to communicate with Hermione since he didn't have to walk all the way into town to Floo during the weeknights when they were apart when he could simply make an evening phone call in the comfort of his tent.

"You know," Charlie mused holding up the handheld device, "Muggles have some pretty damn good ideas."

He was currently lounging on Hermione's sofa having long since reading his stack of reports and instead, playing Snake on the electronic device.

Hermione looked up from her book and gave him a smile, "They've been known to have them from time to time."

Charlie chuckled as he continued to press the phone's buttons, completely engrossed in the game. The two had initially made plans to go out for dinner, but by the time Charlie had Flooed to Hermione's apartment, it was raining pretty heavily and they elected to stay in. This was perfectly fine as far as Hermione was concerned—there were plenty of things they could do—and had already done—in the privacy of her apartment that evening. Besides, she found that she quite liked sitting on the sofa with her legs outstretched and resting on Charlie's lap as she read.

Hermione was just about to suggest they should get started on dinner since it was starting to get a little late when the front door burst open and Claire sped in, her hair in rollers.

"Hem, can I borrow that jacket of yours? The trenchy one that…oh! Why, hello there, Charlie!" Claire exclaimed seeing the pair on the sofa, "It's a nightmare outside and I don't have a good raincoat for my date tonight."

"Is this the guy from the gallery?" Charlie asked, setting his phone down and turning to give the artist his full attention.

Hermione smiled to herself as she marked her spot in her book. His memory for random details nearly rivaled hers.

"Yeah." Claire answered as she rifled through the various coats that were hanging on Hermione's hall tree.

"I think the coat might be in the closet in my room. Hang on." Hermione said as she swung her legs off Charlie's lap. "Is this your third date?" she asked as she passed Claire on her way to her bedroom, "Or are you not counting going out after you met at the art show?"

"That was a group hang, not a date." Claire clarified, raising her voice so Hermione could hear her, "Do you guys count any of the stuff before that weekend where you made out in front of the Coffi Café?"

"We did _not_ make out!" Hermione yelled with an annoyed huff as she dug through her closet, knowing full well that Claire was probably making some ludicrous expression at Charlie.

"Call it whatever you want, it was long overdue."

Hermione could practically hear her friend's over exaggerated wink.

"So it's your second date then." Hermione stated, pulling the coat triumphantly from her closet.

"Yes. Second date."

She walked back out to the living area of her apartment and handed the jacket over to her friend.

"You kids don't get too crazy now." Claire said giving Hermione's casual outfit of a basic black tank top and loose grey sweatpants that she had borrowed from Charlie a pointed look.

"Oh, this rager will still be in full swing when you get back." Charlie chimed in from the sofa.

"Have a good night, Claire." Hermione said with a chuckle as she ushered her friend out the door.

Turning to face Charlie once the door closed, Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Dinner?"

"Sounds perfect." Charlie said, standing up to join Hermione in the kitchen.

Hermione couldn't agree more.

* * *

**June 13, 1999**

Charlie stepped through Hermione's fireplace to find her standing near her kitchen table, completely engrossed in the letter she was holding.

He recognized the stationary instantly.

"Letter from Gin?" He asked as we walked over to her.

"Yes." Hermione replied as she broke her focus to give him a kiss in greeting before she delved back into the note, "She's wondering if she can come for a visit the weekend after she gets home from Hogwarts. She starts training for the Harpies in July, so really that's the only weekend she'd be available."

Ginny's previous letter had been the one that bore the wonderful news that the youngest Weasley had been officially signed to the Welsh Quidditch team after several scouts had attended some of her final matches at Hogwarts. Hermione had been bursting with pride for her friend and was also selfishly happy that Ginny would soon be living in Wales.

"Next weekend, huh?" Charlie mused, making his way to Hermione's French press, "You should take her to the concert series over at the castle. She'd love it."

Hermione reread the letter for a third time before she asked the question that had been weighing on her since she first opened the envelope, "Should I tell her?"

Charlie didn't even wait until he finished grinding the coffee beans before he answered, "It's your call."

Hermione spun around, wondering how on Earth he could be so cavalier about their relationship being truly out in the open, "She's your _sister_."

"And she's _your_ best friend." He replied, pouring the water from the kettle to the press, "No matter what happens, she will always be my sister. As her friend, she needs to hear it from you, but only when you're ready to tell her."

He set the empty kettle back on the stove and met Hermione's gaze, "I can handle my family, Hermione. We tell on your terms."

Hermione moved to stand next to him, unsure of what she wanted to do. She wasn't sure she wanted to lie to one of her best friends, but she wasn't sure she was ready to share this part of her life just yet.

Not to mention deal with the resulting fallout.

"I think…" she started, still unsure of her answer as she spoke, "I think I want her to see my life first before…before I fill her in on...us." She paused, sneaking a sideways glance Charlie, "Is that okay?"

"_Of course_, it's okay, Hermione." Charlie said, pulling her into his arms. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He always made it so easy.

"Do you think Harry will be able to come as well?"

Hermione leaned back, giving him a considering look, "I'm not sure."

Charlie just shrugged, "You've mentioned that he has been trying to make a trip here with his Auror training schedule for a while… maybe it's worth checking with him to see if he had already requested that weekend off in anticipation for Gin's return?"

Hermione blinked. How had she not thought of that?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Charlie agreed, grinning, "I think that you spending a weekend with them sounds absolutely brilliant."

"What about you?" Hermione asked, "I know we sort of had plans to go to that concert series ourselves."

Charlie gave her one last squeeze before releasing her, "You spending time with Gin and Harry is far more important."

Releasing her, he moved to finish his work on the coffee, "As long as I'm still your plus one for the beer festival on the 3rd…"

Hermione gave him a half-hearted swat as she moved to grab two mugs, "I wouldn't dream of taking anyone else."

* * *

**June 25, 1999**

Hermione made one final sweep around her apartment to make sure that any and all traces of Charlie had been found and was locked away in the trunk in her bedroom. She still hated the idea of lying to her two best friends about one of the most important parts of her life, but she still felt as sure as she did the previous week. She simply wasn't ready to share her relationship with the world at large yet.

Not when this would be the first time that she would be seeing Harry and Ginny in person since she left. She wanted them to see life she had made for herself—that she was okay—before she told them about Charlie.

Still, her fireplace mantel seemed depressingly bare without the gallery of frames she had collected over the weeks with photos of her and Charlie at some of their favorite jaunts. All of the contents of the dresser drawers and spaces in her closet that Hermione had told him to use had been shrunken and carefully stowed away, along with the toiletries that he kept in the medicine cabinet in her bathroom.

She'd temporarily disconnected her fireplace from the Floo Network, locking the Floo powder away as well. Hermione had also informed Claire of the impending visit and that she wasn't quite ready to tell her best friends, one of whom being Charlie's younger sister, about the relationship quite yet. To her credit, Claire immediately offered to tell the rest of their group to not talk about Charlie that weekend should any of their paths cross.

Between Harry's Auror training and the shrewdness that Ginny inherited from Molly, Hermione was taking no chances.

She was going through her mental list of places to double check when she heard a knock on her apartment door.

'That's odd.' Hermione thought to herself, 'Claire almost never knocks.'

It then dawned on her that the locked door that led to the apartment's staircase would be nothing to two wizards who had no other means of letting Hermione know they had arrived other than a fairly conspicuous patronus.

She practically ran to her apartment door, throwing it open with excitement.

"Hermione!" Ginny shrieked, hurling herself across the apartment's threshold.

She returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm, "Ginny!"

Behind them, Harry watched with thinly veiled amusement before Hermione's teary gaze landed on him and she reached out with an arm, pulling him into the embrace.

"It's been too long, Hermione." Harry sighed as he rested his head against hers, "I'm sorry I couldn't make it out sooner."

"It's okay, Harry. You're here now." Hermione pulled away from her friends, attempting to dry her cheeks with the sleeves of her cardigan. She instantly zeroed in on the bags Harry was carrying, "Here, let's get your bags situated and we then we can head out for lunch. I've got the perfect place in mind."

She gestured for Harry to give her a bag as she led them further into the apartment, giving them the mini tour.

"This place is super cute, Hermione." Ginny commented taking in the various potted plants that decorated the apartment with a soft smile.

"Thank you." Hermione replied, setting the duffel bag Harry had given her against the wall and out of the way, "I figured I can transfigure the sofa into a bed for you two tonight."

Ginny just waggled her eyebrows in response while Harry had the decency to look a little embarrassed. Hermione sighed, grinning at her friends' antics. She'd missed them.

"Don't make me separate you two." She scolded with a chuckle.

Ginny simply rolled her eyes, "You said your bathroom was just down there?" Hermione nodded, "Mind if I freshen up before lunch?"

"By all means!" Hermione said, gesturing her forward, "There is a switch for the light in the hall."

Once the redhead disappeared, Hermione turned to face Harry.

"Hermione, you look…" he began, giving her a not so subtle once over, "…so good."

"Thanks." Hermione replied, offering Harry a small smile, "I'm doing much better than I was."

"I'm glad." Harry grinned, "You deserve happiness wherever it is that you find it, Hermione. It wasn't at the Burrow and everyone understood that...eventually. I'm glad that you seemed to have found whatever it is you were looking for.

She reached out to him, tears threatening to fall once more, "Thank you, Harry."

He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze, "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you as much as I—"

Hermione waved him off before he could even finish the sentence.

"You've done _more_ than enough." She stated, fixing him with a firm stare, "You saw that I was drowning and you got me out of that house. You saved my life, Harry."

Harry's cheeks flushed as he cast his eyes downward with embarrassment. He had always hated praise no matter how well deserved.

"Well, I suppose it's only fair since you've saved mine more than I can count." He mumbled, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible, "Honestly, you helped us solve the mystery of the Basilisk while you were in a _coma_."

"I think you mean I _solved_ the mystery of the Basilisk while I was in a coma." Hermione teased, giving him a gentle nudge.

"See?" he asked, shooting her a cheeky grin, "I was overdue."

Hermione chuckled, "Besides, I don't even feel like I have been missing out of much. Your monthly letters are very…thorough."

Harry let out a laugh, "Auror training is a lot to process. Sometimes my quill gets away from me."

"But you're enjoying it?"

"Honestly, Hermione, I feel…like it's what I'm _meant_ to do." Harry said with such conviction that Hermione's face hurt from how big her smile was, "Even the boring bits when it's just paperwork and there's…quite a lot of paperwork."

Her eyebrows shot up at this, "Who are you and what have you done with my friend Harry?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Oh, ha ha. Very funny."

"What are we giving my boyfriend a hard time about?" Ginny asked as she walked back into the living room.

"His newfound love of paperwork." Hermione responded has Harry continued to huff in annoyance.

Ginny just laughed, "_So weird_, right?"

They went out to lunch at the bistro near the bookshop, Hermione pointing out her other favorite places along the way. After lunch, Hermione gave them a quick tour of the store—and it was very quick since Hermione had forgotten to fill Melinda in on the 'No Bringing Up Charlie' rule for her friends' visit—they headed over to one of Hermione's favorite pubs so that the three of them could have a few celebratory rounds that were long overdue.

They cheersed to everything. To Hermione finding happiness in Cardiff. To the continued success of Harry's training. To Ginny's upcoming start on the Holyhead Harpies.

"I can't believe that you're a professional Quidditch player!" Hermione exclaimed after she saluted Ginny with her pint, "Actually, I can because you were always absolutely brilliant."

Harry beamed at Ginny with pride, "To the Harpies' newest Chaser!"

Ginny reluctantly raised her glass to meet Harry and Hermione's once more, "Let's just wait until after the first week of practice starts, yeah?"

"So…now's probably not a good time, then, to tell you that I've already purchased everyone jerseys?" Harry asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Ginny's jaw dropped, "_Harry Potter, you did no such thing_!"

"You're right." Harry confessed, looking over at Hermione, "They're actually scarves with matching beanies—much more practical."

The trio burst into laughter.

* * *

With a long day ahead of them, they called it an early night, heading back to Hermione's apartment well before sunset so that they would be properly rested for the music festival the next day.

Harry excused himself for a bit, saying that he had some paperwork to finish up which only earned some more ribbing from the girls before they headed to Hermione's bedroom to catch up.

"So…" Ginny began as she settled in on Hermione's bed, "…any Welsh gentlemen tickling your fancy?"

Of course Ginny would cut right to the chase. They'd spent countless nights in the girls' dormitories at Hogwarts gossiping about their and everyone else's love lives during the later years, Hermione knew this was coming.

Yet, she still found herself unsure of how to answer.

"No." She responded, which technically wasn't a lie.

"Are you even looking?"

"No." Also not a lie.

Ginny gave her an incredulous look, "Not even for a hot Muggle townie for a one-night stand?"

Hermione shot her friend an unamused look.

"Hey," Ginny defended, "there's nothing wrong with casual entanglements."

Hermione snorted at her friend's phrasing, "That may be, but I'm not really looking for any _casual entanglements_ at the moment."

"Why not?" the younger girl asked, "It might be nice to get back out there."

Hermione paused, trying to think of an answer that would satisfy Ginny's line of questioning without raising further suspicion, "Well…why would I start anything with someone from Cardiff? I'm not going to work in a Muggle bookstore forever. How would I explain our world to them?"

Ginny sat up straighter as Hermione realized what she had said, "You're coming back?"

"Not…for a while, but yes, eventually." Hermione replied, "Once I figure out what it is that I want to do with my life."

She grabbed one of her throw pillows and hugged it to her chest, "I've only just figured out who I am outside…all _that_." She sighed, "I still need time."

"I know." Ginny said, resting her head on Hermione's shoulder, "I just…miss my best friend."

"I miss you too." Hermione smiled, "But you'll be living in Anglesey soon."

"Yeah, on the _other side_ of the country." The redhead moped.

"It's a lot closer than Scotland." Hermione pointed out, "Once you get settled into your training, we could set up a standing lunch. Monthly, biweekly, whatever works for your schedule."

Ginny bolted upright at this idea, "Yes! Oh! We can alternate locations each time."

Hermione could practically feel the excitement radiating off of her friend, "I love this idea!"

The two sat there on Hermione's bed for the next hour, Ginny catching Hermione up on everything that had happened in her last term at Hogwarts. Details that Ginny had deemed to be too boring to include in her letters compared being scouted and her flashier senior year escapades with her classmates. Hermione found it harder than she anticipated to share stories from the past few months as the most interesting of them involved Charlie or her being around dragons in some capacity. So she mostly talked about her Muggle group of friends and how Claire constantly tries to force Hermione out of her comfort zone by taking her out to flashy clubs or to some of her more _conceptual_ shows at her gallery.

"You'll be meeting the majority of them tomorrow at the festival." Hermione stated after sharing the story of how the group had recently spent an evening bar hopping and daring each other to order the most outlandish cocktails on the menu, which was how Hermione had ended up with one of her curls getting singed from a blended drink that had a sparkler as a garnish.

She of course left out the fact that it was Charlie who was the one who had acted quickly so that Hermione had only one singed curl and not a dozen. Having a boyfriend who was used to things randomly bursting into flames had its perks.

Ginny grinned, "Excellent."

They sat in silence for a moment before Ginny slowly turned to Hermione, her expression suddenly serious.

"I have to tell you something." She stated, her face scrunching up with unease.

Hermione frowned wondering what could possibly be behind this sudden mood change. It had to be something serious, "Of course. Anything."

"I told Harry that I wanted to be the one to tell you."

Hermione's heart began to beat harder as her mind raced with what could have possibly happened and to whom. Was there trouble with the Ministry under Kingsley? If Harry had wanted to tell her, was it something to do with his godson, Teddy Lupin, who he absolutely adored? That wouldn't make sense, then, as to why Ginny wanted to be the one to tell her. It must have something to do with the Weasleys. Charlie had told her the other day that Bill and Fleur had recently had a daughter…did something happen to the baby? Was Molly ill? If it did have something to do with the Weasleys, wouldn't Charlie have told her?

Her mind was buzzing with so many possibilities, equally horrifying senarios that she nearly missed it when Ginny spoke.

"Ron's sort of...seeing someone."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief—chuckling a little at how inconsequential the news was considering the scenarios that had raced through her mind.

It was when Ginny shot her a slightly confused look that Hermione began to panic again.

Should she have pretended to be more hurt by the news of Ron moving on? Should she have pretended that she hadn't moved on herself?

"Well…that's…good for him?"

Ginny just stared at her in disbelief and Hermione knew that she had made a mistake by not reacting the way someone should have when hearing about their ex dating someone else. Someone who wasn't already in their own fulfilling relationship that is.

"We were never really suited for one another. Not in that way." Hermione explained, trying to breeze past her reaction or rather lack thereof, "It took a while to come to peace with how everything ended, especially with all that was said there…at the end."

Hermione looked over at Ginny, hoping that the sincerity of her words would throw Ginny off the scent of the secret she was hiding, "He's still…" she began again, "...at least, _I _still consider him to be one of my closest friends. He deserves someone who can make him happy. It just wasn't me."

Ginny reached out and gave Hermione's had a squeeze, "You deserve someone too, you know."

Hermione sent her friend a grateful look, "I know."

"Speaking of…" Ginny began, a slow grin spreading across her face, "Harry told me that you gave him permission to give Viktor Krum your contact info."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, knowing full well where the youngest Weasley was intending to go with this, "Yes, I did."

"And?"

"We write to each other."

"Have you ever invited him out for a weekend in Cardiff?"

Hermione whipped the pillow she had been clutching at her friend, causing Ginny to shriek and throw the pillow back in retaliation, "It wouldn't be a _casual entanglement_ with him. Just an idea!"

By the time Harry came to investigate the sudden noise coming from the bedroom, a full-on pillow war was in full swing.

"Everything okay in here?" He asked, this time not even bothering to hide his amusement.

Hermione and Ginny stopped and eyed each other, forming a silent truce before they threw their pillows at Harry, the three of them barely being able to breathe from laughter.

* * *

**June 28, 1999**

Charlie was practically bouncing as he waited for Hermione to step through the fireplace in Roger's office.

Harry and Ginny's trip had come at a good time.

He'd spent the entire weekend in the lab, trying to get ahead on his research. They had been so close to getting to the testing phase that he'd been determined to not return to his tent until it was done. Much to his satisfaction, it had worked.

After about the twenty-seventh straight hour, he was ready to start the experimentation phase.

After about the twenty-eighth straight hour he'd thought of the most perfectly brilliant idea that he wanted to run by Hermione.

But of course, he wanted to know how her weekend went first.

It was a big step, seeing Harry and Ginny again.

Ginny had left to go to Hogwarts just days before Hermione left the Burrow and the last time she had seen Harry…well, Harry was the one who got her out of that house.

As much as Hermione loved her friends in Cardiff and the coworkers of his she had befriended in Dref y Ddraig, Charlie knew that she missed seeing Harry and his sister very much. Though he and Hermione's friendship had grown large in part to the steady correspondence they had with one another in those early weeks, letters paled in comparison to seeing the one you were writing to in person.

Almost as if that thought had conjured her, the flames in the fireplace flashed green as Hermione stepped through and into the office.

"How was the weekend?" he asked.

Hermione sighed and smiled wistfully, "It was just what I needed."

Charlie grinned as he listened to her fill him in on what all they did, how the music festival was, how Claire had been on her best behavior not even bursting through her apartment door once the entire weekend.

"Wow." He commented as they sat down at their usual table, Roger heading over with two pints upon seeing them leave his office, "What do I have to do to get that sort of arrangement with her? I like the girl, but she does have a knack for bursting in at some rather interesting moments."

He chuckled as Hermione blushed, no doubt remembering the last time Claire had burst into the apartment the previous week to find them in a rather compromising position.

"We just need to be better about locking the door." Hermione mumbled, her cheeks crimson.

Hermione instantly changed the subject to something more mundane, filling Charlie in—with more detail than necessary—on the ins and outs of Harry's Auror training. Charlie found that Hermione was particularly adorable when she was flustered.

"Being an Auror really suits him." She finished, finally getting the shade of her cheeks under control, "I wish…"

Charlie leaned forward, concerned with the sudden shift in her mood.

"I'm happy for him, I am, but I just wish that I was so sure about what I want to do with my life as he is." She paused, taking in a deep breath, "I used to be. I thought I had it all figured out before…"

When it became clear that she wasn't going to finish her thought, Charlie gently asked, "What was it you wanted to be?"

Hermione chuckled—a little too darkly for Charlie's liking, "I wanted to work for the Ministry."

"Ah." He replied, "I can see how a Ministry position would be...less appealing to you now."

"I know that many people, your father included, have been working very hard in the last year." Hermione began, trying to soften her disdain for the Ministry, "Rooting out all of the Death Eaters and sympathizers that had infiltrated the Ministry, but—"

"They put you through hell." Charlie finished for her, not even bothering to dampen his contempt, "You would have...had you not been with Harry, they would have thrown you in Azkaban." He took in a deep breath, trying to check his anger.

He and Hermione had had countless conversations about their experiences during the war and it was of no use to get angry about hypotheticals—what could have happened had things been slightly different.

"Even after the war." He continued, "Those trials…you don't have to explain anything to me."

She gave him a thankful expression, "I just…don't know what else is out there. Everything I did at Hogwarts was with that one career in mind and now…"

"You'll find what you're meant to do too, you know." He replied, "You just...need a little more time to figure it out. Nothing wrong with that."

Charlie paused for a moment before deciding that now was the time to ask her what he'd been wanting to for the last two days.

"In the meantime...how good are you at potion making?" He asked.

"I successfully brewed Polyjuice Potion my second year." She responded instantly, tilting her head as she gave him a more curious look, "Why?"

He grinned.

"How would you like a part-time job?"

She squinted at him, confused, "Sorry?"

"I actually ended up getting _a lot_ done last weekend and we're now at the stage in our research where we can start testing out our different theories." He explained, "We're wanting to start creating and testing new potions, but we need someone with a skilled hand who is also meticulous with their note taking so we can track what variations we try, how well or not they work, et cetera. Naturally, I thought of you.

"No worries if you don't want to." He quickly added when she didn't immediately respond, "But if you do accept, just know that the schedule is pretty much up for you to create. The potion making and monitoring schedule would be pretty unstructured and fluid as I am certain you're aware when it comes to the brewing process. You could definitely still work at the bookstore while you work at the sanctuary—I know how much you love working there.

"I just thought that before we widened our search, we check with the brilliant—and quite frankly overqualified—witch who already knows and is loved by the sanctuary staff to see if she wanted the job first."

Charlie had felt himself talk increasingly faster as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. He didn't want it to seem like nepotism—though he would be lying if the thought of seeing Hermione more throughout the week and not just on weekends if she accepted wasn't a factor in him wanting to offer her the position. What _wasn't_ a lie, however, was when he said that he thought she was overqualified for the job.

He was well aware of how bright Hermione was, even though she had never officially taken her N.E.W.T.'s. He knew from what he'd heard from fellow Order members—not to mention from Ron's more colorful complaints from when he was younger—that she had been performing magic at a skill level well beyond her age for quite some time.

Brewing Polyjuice at the age of twelve—a fact that he was learning for the first time and _definitely_ needed to hear the story behind—told him more than any test score could.

Hermione looked at him, eyes wide, "Are you sure?"

"Only if you are."

She sat there for a moment, fiddling with her pint glass before looking up at him.

"Yes." She grinned, "I'll do it!"

* * *

**July 28, 1999**

The past month seemed as though it had passed entirely too quickly.

Charlie supposed that's what happened when you were entirely too happy.

He walked into the sanctuary's lab just a little after sunrise, not at all surprised to see Hermione there, jotting down a few quick notes as she observed the row of cauldrons in front of her.

He knew that if she accepted the position, not only would Hermione be brilliant at it, her work would be exceptional as well. What he had not anticipated, was how well they would work together. She'd shown interest in his work throughout their time together, but actually working with her on his research, hypothesizing together and challenging one another intellectually was an unexpected delight, not to mention something that he found attracted him to Hermione even more. If such a thing was possible.

The first round of potions that Hermione had made using Charlie's research didn't yield the results they were hoping for, but they showed promise. She had spent the last week pouring over her first round of brewing notes, adjusting the recipe for their next attempt. She had devised a control potion as well as several slightly altered versions to try along side it. As predicted, her brewing schedule was meticulous—really an organizational work of art—and Charlie had woken up a little early to catch her before she headed to her morning shift at the bookstore, the bright yellow envelope he had received the day before clutched in his hand.

"I was just finishing up stirring these." Hermione said, not even looking up from her notes as he entered the room, "I should be back after my shift at the shop with _plenty_ of time before they need to be stirred again, but in case I'm not, this one is clockwise stirring only, this one is counter clockwise, and that last one is alternating. We'll see if stirring motion affects the potency of the potion or not."

Merlin, he loved her.

Charlie skidded to a stop, eyes widening slightly at what he'd just thought.

_He loved her._

Well, of course he did.

He'd felt it for awhile, if he was being honest. But feeling it and using the word—albeit only in his mind—were two entirely different things.

"What?" Hermione asked, peering at him, "What is it?"

Trying to recover, Charlie cleared his throat, "Have you gotten it?"

"Gotten what?" Hermione frowned.

He held out the yellow invite, "Gin's first match."

Hermione set the wooden spoon she was holding down, her gaze fixed on the envelope in his hands.

"Oh." She breathed, "I suppose Owl post does move quicker than Royal."

Charlie cast the invite aside on his desk and walked over to her, "You don't have to go if you aren't ready."

Hermione's eyes met his and she took in a deep breath.

This would be the first time she would see the rest of his family since she unexpectedly left them nearly a year ago.

It would be the first time she saw _Ron_ since...

"I can't avoid everyone forever." She stated, lifting her chin resolutely, "Besides…I _have_ to be there for Ginny. It's her first match. It's time."

Biting her lip, Hermione added, "Don't take this the wrong way, but—"

"You don't want to tell everyone that we've been secretly seeing each other for the last five months in an enclosed but very public space?" He offered.

Hermione nodded.

"Don't worry, we're both on the same page on that one." He replied.

He leaned against the lab's counter, well away from any open flame or bubbling liquid lest he wanted Hermione to scold him as she had the other day when he had gotten too close. She had enough on her mind as is.

"I know that we'll eventually have to tell them," he continued, "but…this is your first real visit back into the wizarding world at large, let alone back to everything and everyone…

"We tell on your terms." Charlie reminded.

She turned to him, reaching out to grip his arm, "But they're your family, Charlie. I cannot ask you to lie to them."

"I wouldn't be lying." He explained, "I just wouldn't be sharing certain details about my life with them."

Hermione scoffed, "Withholding the truth from Ginny and Harry while they visited me in my Muggle life is one thing. We'd be _together_, at a professional Quidditch match, with your entire family let alone anyone else that your mother invited." Hermione's eyes widened, "Oh my god, _your mother_! She'll take one look at us and just…_know_."

Charlie rested a hand over hers, "My mother stopped her inquisition into my love life after about five years of my being in Romania and never bringing anyone home. I have it on good authority that she thinks I'm a lost cause."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's _you_ I'm concerned about." He continued, "It'll be the first time that you'll see him since…"

Ron.

It was actually going to be the first time that Charlie saw Ron since he left the Burrow himself. In the few times that Charlie had gone back home—for the one-year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts and Fred's death, then again for Ginny's graduation—their paths had inexplicably not crossed. He wasn't quite sure how he would react to seeing him again, but he would put all of his feelings aside to simply be there for Hermione.

He cleared his throat to start again, "Just know you have someone who loves you in your corner the whole time, yeah? No matter what."

"Thank you." She said as she gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before she glanced down to check her watch.

Her eyes widened, "Shoot! I'm running behind!"

She hurriedly packed up her things, leaving behind a few sheets of parchment that she wanted Charlie to look over. With a quick kiss, she was gone.

As soon as Charlie heard the door latch behind her, he let out the panicked breath he'd been holding for what seemed like the longest ten seconds of his life.

He had accidentally told her that he loved her.

"_Way to go, Weasley._" He muttered to himself as he grabbed her notes, knowing full well that he was going to sulk at his stupidity for several minutes before he would read them.

With any luck, he thought, Hermione wouldn't realize what he had said. She would be back in the afternoon to check in on the potions, and then they had plans to get dinner before she headed back to Cardiff for the evening. This gave him plenty of time to plan.

He needed tell her properly, _not_ as some throwaway comment.

She deserved nothing short of perfection.

* * *

Hermione's shift at the bookstore seemed to drag.

She'd been so concerned about getting past the sanctuary wards so she could apparate to Roger's office to Floo back to Cardiff in a timely manner, that once she had arrived—exactly on time—and gone through the store's opening routine, she wasn't surprised to find that it took her mind longer than usual to calm down.

Only it never did.

She couldn't help but feel as though she had missed something. Something important.

She ran through the morning, eliminating the events of her day as they occurred to try and figure out what it was she was forgetting.

The 6 am stirring sequence? No, she'd completed that.

The invitation to Ginny's match? She was certain she'd be receiving hers in that day's mail, so that wasn't it either.

The reports she'd wanted Charlie to read? She'd remembered to leave them behind, so that couldn't be it.

Frustrated, Hermione grabbed the stack of new books that had just arrived and moved to the Romance section to shelve them.

What on Earth was she forgetting?

She was starting to get extremely cross with herself when it suddenly hit her.

_'Just know you have someone who loves you in your corner the whole time, yeah?'_

She stood there, frozen as though she were petrified, staring at the book in her hand.

Charlie had said he'd loved her.

And she'd just run out the door, completely ignoring that he'd even said it.

She dropped the books and placed her head in her hands, absolutely mortified.

Without picking the books up—she'd get to them later—Hermione ran to the store's phonebook, looking for the number she needed before grabbing the store's handset and frantically dialing it in.

"La Maison d'Art…"

Hermione nearly fell over with relief, "Claire! It's me. I need your help."

* * *

Charlie was in the middle of highlighting a section from his well-worn herbology book when he sensed Hermione return.

'Be cool.' He chided himself as he heard her set her bag down and walk towards him, 'Act like nothing is amiss.'

"I've been thinking…"

Charlie resolutely kept his head down, forcing himself to focus on the text in front of him, "About the yarrow root?" He interjected, "I've been going over your notes—great catch, by the way—and I think that you're right in that we should try—"

"Not about work."

Something in Hermione's tone caused the back of his neck to tingle, a weight in his chest tighening.

He looked up.

She had changed out of the shorts and jumper she'd been wearing that morning and into a stunningly vibrant blue cocktail dress that had a neckline that plunged far deeper than anything he'd seen Hermione wear before. Her hair had been swept up into a messy bun that Charlie knew took way more effort than it looked for her curls to fall _just so._ The most telling thing about her look was that she was wearing make up during the middle of the day, something Hermione rarely did and definitely not to this extent. She looked like she was ready to go out for a romantic dinner during the middle of a Wednesday afternoon.

'Oh, shit.' Charlie thought in a panic. _She knew._

As if sensing that he had come to this conclusion, Hermione took a tentative step forward.

"I...I'm not sure why I haven't…why I haven't said this sooner." She started, uncharacteristically stumbling over her words, "Maybe it's because I've never actually said the words aloud before, even though I'd thought them the past, but it wasn't really the same. Not like this."

She was rambling.

Charlie grinned.

She was just as hopeless at this as he was.

"Truthfully," She continued, beginning to blush, "I've be wanting to say them to you for a while. Ever since that morning when we debated pastries for _ten ridiculous minutes_ at Coffi Café, though I didn't think that's what it felt like at the time, though I should have known that with you…_gods, I can't even focus right now, I'm so_—"

"I've found," Charlie stated, slowly rising from his chair, "that it's best to simply just say it."

Hermione took a tentative step toward him.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Charlie closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms as his lips met hers in what was one of their more passionate public embraces. While they tried to keep their displays of affection discreet while they were technically on the clock, Charlie decided that this was a mitigating circumstance. Hermione seemed to agree.

"When is the next stirring schedule?" He asked, pulling away.

"Not for another hour, why?" she replied, resting her forehead against his.

"Would you like to come back to my place for a decidedly _non_-platonic cup of coffee?"

"Sounds perfect." Hermione laughed, reaching out to grab his hand as he quickly led her out of the lab.

Charlie couldn't agree more.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well wasn't that just a big ol' bunch of fluff? :) Next chapter...Hermione and Ron see each other for the first time in nearly a year...**


	7. Chapter 7: The Match

**August 7, 1999**

Hermione fidgeted with her Harpies scarf—Harry had made good on his promise to buy them—as she climbed the many flights of stairs leading to the private box suite that her friend had reserved for Ginny's match. She had been mentally preparing herself to see everyone again all morning, but now that she was quite literally only steps away, she was nervous. He had told her who all he had invited when he had arrived at her apartment to accompany her to the Welsh stadium and thankfully, the group was quite small. Just the Weasleys and a few of their closest friends from Hogwarts.

She could handle that.

She hoped.

As she reached the landing, Harry turned and offered her a sympathetic smile, briefly assessing the outward appearance of her mental state. Hermione must have looked calmer than she felt because Harry gave her a small nod.

"Ready?"

She took in a slow, deep breath—one final moment to herself—before she met her friend's concerned gaze.

"Ready."

Harry turned to walk into the private box first and take the brunt of the initial reaction—good or bad.

For a moment, everything was silent and Hermione briefly wondered if they had arrived too early and no one was there yet, but the thought was quickly quelled.

"_Hermione!_" Molly Weasley exclaimed as she rushed to the door.

The Weasley matriarch had to slow her pace to side-step Harry and Hermione shot her friend a grateful look for being the one to walk in first when she was enveloped in a hug that wasn't as bone-crushing as it could have been.

Harry just gave her another silent nod in response.

"I am so glad you were able to make it, dear." Molly said as she loosened her grip once the initial wave of surprise was over.

Hermione closed her eyes as she leaned into the hug, wrapping her arms around Molly now that she was able to move them.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been hugged like this—in the comforting (if overly enthusiastic) arms of a mother.

"Of course." Hermione replied, resting her chin on Molly's shoulder, "I wouldn't miss Ginny's first match for the world."

With one final squeeze, Molly released her, resting her hands on Hermione's shoulders as she beamed, barely able to contain the tears welling in her eyes.

Hermione felt tears threatening to form in her own.

As if sensing the fragility of the moment, Molly switched into full mothering mode.

"Oh, come in, come in!" Molly said, waving Hermione forward, "Are you thirsty, dear?"

Before Hermione could answer, Molly turned to her husband who had been hovering nearby, "Arthur! Be a dear and get Hermione something to drink."

Arthur gave Hermione a warm smile before turning to his wife, "I'll be back with that straightaway."

George sauntered over to the group, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin once he got close enough to Hermione, "Welcome back to the fray, Granger."

"George!" Hermione exclaimed as she gave him a quick hug. She never thought she would be so happy to see his patented look of mischief—for once not caring that it almost always meant that a prank was underfoot.

"How are you? How's the shop?" she asked.

"Doing well." George replied, "Thinking about opening up a second location in Hogsmeade, actually."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "I'm sure Professor McGonagall will _love_ that."

"Someone's got to keep the ol' girl on her toes." George grinned, "Things have been far too normal these days."

"_This_ is normal?" Hermione asked, gesturing at their opulent surroundings. Rows of plush looking green-and-gilt chairs were ordered neatly on the balcony at the front of the suite and a small but equally posh lounge space was set up towards the for those who needed refreshments or to simply step away from the action on the pitch.

"I didn't say_ all_ things." George replied, giving her an appraising look, "Speaking of normal…_you_ look happy."

Hermione smiled, "I am."

George gave her a gentle nudge, "Good."

Arthur walked up back up to the group, a large glass in his hand.

"Here we are Hermione." He said, handing the beverage over, "There's also plenty of other refreshments if lemonade's not your fancy."

"Lemonade is just fine, Mr. Weasley." Hermione reassured, "Thank you."

Arthur beamed, "Please, call me Arthur."

She began chatting with Arthur about the latest news regarding the Ministry in its post-war efforts. It was nothing she hadn't already learned from Harry, but she listened with rapt attention, simply enjoying the feel of being back in the world she had left behind all those months ago. With every important bit of news from Arthur, reassuring squeeze from Molly, and all-too-knowing smirk from George, Hermione felt herself becoming more and more at ease.

She still fit in this world.

As the time before the game quickly passed, more and more people entered the suite. Luna—who was very glad to see significantly fewer maestitia sprites surrounding Hermione—said a quick hello, promising to save Hermione a seat near the balcony so they could catch up during the match. Neville had given an equally brief but ardent greeting, moving to follow Luna, the two having arrived together. Hermione was overjoyed to see that their budding romance at Hogwarts had survived the war.

"Hermione!"

She turned to face the entrance just as Fleur and Bill walked in.

"It is so good to see you again!" the blonde continued as she pulled Hermione into a half hug, a tiny bundle cradled in her other arm.

Hermione peered at the peacefully sleeping three month old, "Oh, Fleur! Is this…?

"Victoire." Fleur grinned, slowly readjusting her daughter in her arms so that Hermione could get a better look.

"She's perfect." Hermione said, thinking that the name was quite fitting for a child who had been born on the one year anniversary of the war.

"I wholeheartedly agree, but then again, I'm a little biased." Bill stated as he bent down to give his daughter a quick kiss on the forehead before giving Hermione a firm hug, "Good to have you back, Hermione."

"Thank you, Bill." She replied before turning her attentions back to the little bundle in Fleur's arms who had just begun to open her eyes as if she had suddenly realized she was somewhere new. Hermione gave a small wave, hunching down to be closer to Victoire who had become immediately fascinated with the curls of Hermione's hair in her still groggy state.

"Charlie, stop skulking in the doorway and come say hello!" Molly scolded from somewhere behind, causing Hermione to jump a little as she looked up to see that Charlie had come in behind Bill and Fleur, but had yet to make his presence known to the group.

He gave her the tiniest of smiles before fixing his mother with a look of annoyance, "I was just waiting until the she had room to breathe." He gestured at the cluster of people standing in the doorway to illustrate his point.

He turned back to Hermione.

"Hello, Hermione." He greeted formally as though the last time she had seen him hadn't been that morning while he was wearing nothing but his boxers and the Harpies scarf that was currently around her neck. At the time, it had done the intended trick of taking her mind off of the stress of the day's looming events, but now proved to be problematic.

"Hello, Charlie." Hermione replied, her cheeks only flushing slightly at the morning's memories.

Charlie's eyebrow quirked slightly and Hermione knew that he had taken a guess where her mind had wandered.

"I like your scarf." He remarked, nodding at the bright gold and dark green striped scarf around her neck with an annoyingly neutral look on his face.

It took all of her strength not to outright glare at him.

"Thank you." She replied instead, plastering a sickly sweet smile on her face, "Have to support the team, you know."

"I'll say, Charlie! Is that a Muggle mobile device?" Arthur exclaimed, as he bent down to give the phone that was currently sitting in its holster on Charlie's belt—a fashion choice that Hermione routinely teased him about—a closer look.

Charlie looked down at his phone, his expression once again carefully neutral, "It is."

"What on Earth are you doing with one of those?" his father asked, amused to be in the proximity of such a devise.

"Requirement of the job." Charlie shrugged, "The support staff outside of the sanctuary are Squib, so it's the easiest means of contact. Would you like to see it?"

Hermione watched as Charlie handed the phone over for Arthur's inspection, slowly releasing the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Rationally, she knew that no one would connect her to the mobile device. Charlie had given a very convincing excuse that wasn't entirely incorrect as to why he had the phone, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding in her ears.

"No-key-ah." Arthur said reading the text at the top of the phone with fascination, "Is that the mobile's name?"

Charlie chuckled as he threw an arm around his father's shoulders, "Here let me show you how it works."

Hermione let out another relieved sigh and caught Harry's gaze, the two of them sharing a look. Arthur's wonder at Muggle inventions had been a source of mutual amusement between the two of them for years.

The group slowly dispersed after that, Bill and Fleur moving to get Victoire settled into a magicked mobile crib off in the corner, Molly rushing to join them, ever enamored with her first grandchild.

Harry and George fell into an animated discussion about the latest product development for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes—an updated version of the Skiving Snackboxes—and Hermione smiled at the sheer normalness of it all. She looked around at the various clusters of the friends that she had grown to consider family and couldn't help but feel peace in the fact that her near year-long absence hadn't completely severed ties as she had feared it did.

Charlie and Harry had both—separately—insisted that while everyone had been upset with her initial disappearance, it was out of concern for her safety and well-being—never at her personally. That while they were sad she had left, they understood why she did. Hermione had wanted to believe them, but being told something is true and experiencing it for yourself were two completely different things.

She had never been more relieved to be incorrect about something in her life.

She focused back on Harry and George's conversation, unable to resist rolling her eyes as they discussed something as absurd as the concept of Tonsillitis Taffies with as much seriousness as one would discuss performing minor surgery.

"I feel like I have to point out that someone could really only use tonsillitis _once_ as an excuse to get out of class." Hermione interjected with an amused smirk as both of them realized that she was right, "A sinusitis sour candy would be much more practical."

George threw his arms around Hermione, giving her an over-exaggerated kiss on her forehead, "Oh, it is so good to have that _brillian_t mind of yours back, Granger!"

Hermione chuckled as she rolled her eyes, trying to extract herself from his embrace.

She had just about pulled away when she felt George tense, the mirth from moments ago gone. She craned her neck to see what had caused the sudden shift in countenance, finding her answer almost immediately.

Ron had arrived.

Hermione had to admit that Ron looked better than when she had seen him last, but then again, who didn't look better than they did in the war's immediate aftermath? He certainly looked better standing there in jeans and a Harpies jersey than he did yelling at her in his pajamas all those months ago.

She had made the decision awhile back that when she and Ron finally saw one another for the first time, she would not be the first to speak. She may have been unsure about how everything else was going to go that day, but she was quite certain in this aspect of it. Hermione had said everything she had wanted to that night in the Burrow's kitchen.

She wasn't the one who owed the other an apology.

Ron took a cautious step forward, clearing his throat as he shoved his hands into his pockets—a trick Hermione recognized that kept him from fidgeting when he was feeling particularly uncomfortable.

"Hermione."

She offered him the tiniest of smiles, "Hello, Ron."

He paused, opening his mouth as though he was about to say something else, but appeared as though to have decided against it and walked over to the balcony, suddenly very interested in finding a seat as far away from Hermione as possible.

All things considered, Hermione thought the exchange went fairly well.

"He'll eventually come around." Harry said apologetically, glancing over to where Ron had gone, "He just doesn't know how to act around you yet—what to say after all this time."

"'Hello' would have done the trick." Hermione muttered under her breath.

Harry looked as though he was more than slightly irritated, "I don't disagree with you."

She gave him a gentle nudge, "Go. I'll be fine."

"I'll keep an eye on this one." George said, giving Hermione a mischievous grin.

With one last look to confirm that it was okay, Harry moved to join Ron on the balcony.

"You know, all things considered, I think that went rather well." George commented thoughtfully.

Hermione snorted.

"Now…" he continued, fixing Hermione with a look that was all business, "Tell me more about your sinusitis sour candies. How difficult do you think it would be to maintain the potion's integrity while getting the molten syrup to a hard-crack stage? That's the trickiest bit about making novelty lollipops or toffees—it's why I tend to prefer working with chocolate based confections. Less temperamental, but I think you're on to something with these sours…"

And just like that, any residual tension left from her exchange with Ron dissipated.

Smiling, Hermione turned to give her answer.

* * *

Charlie knew that it was going to be difficult acting as though he and Hermione were no more than acquaintances, but what he was not prepared for was how hard it would be to physically distance himself from her when they were in the same room. He found himself naturally searching her out, always noting when she changed locations, his gaze finding hers simply out of habit.

They had made a deal that morning that they wouldn't outright lie about whether or not they were seeing someone. While Charlie maintained that his family had all but given up on his romantic prospects, Hermione argued that when their relationship did eventually come out, them lying about not seeing anyone at all would go over worse than if they had said they were dating someone and just not saying who it was. He thought that she was splitting hairs with her argument, but found that it was hard to disagree with her when she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

They had also agreed that they would not pretend that the other didn't exist. It would be far too conspicuous if they pointedly avoided one another—especially in such a small suite—but there was no reason for them not to be somewhat familiar with one another considering how close Hermione was with the rest of his family. The best course of action would be to simply gravitate towards the company of others, but if they found themselves in each other's presence, they would act as they usually did…just without the casual kisses and hand holding.

They were both adults. They could manage that.

He hoped.

And so Charlie found himself bouncing from conversation to conversation, first with his father and then with George once he had concluded his impromptu product development meeting with Hermione—_of course_ Hermione would solve what his brother referred to rather dramatically as the 'sugar concentration conundrum' when it came to incorporating mock illness potions into his candies. And at a Quidditch game, no less. Charlie had even spent several minutes chatting with Percy who had arrived shortly after Ron, learning about his work at the Ministry and how he was working with their father to restore order to Britain's wizarding institutions.

He hadn't set out to avoid Ron, but his youngest brother hadn't moved from his seat in the farthest corner of the balcony since he arrived. Harry—who Charlie decided must have the patience of a saint—had stayed by his brother's side, but to the wizard's credit, didn't seem as though he was letting Ron off the hook for his rather lackluster greeting to Hermione if Harry's stern expression was anything to go on.

Charlie found himself quietly seething at his brother. After all this time—after how he had left things with Hermione—he hadn't even bothered to say 'hello' to her.

"Wonderful mood Ronald's in this afternoon." Bill commented as Charlie moved to stand next to his elder brother in the back of the suite.

"The best." Charlie muttered as he took a sip of his iced tea.

They stood there in silence for a moment, watching the match on the magicked screens that had been placed in the along the suite's walls. Charlie wasn't certain what combinations of charms and spells were at work to make the match appear on the small canvas "screens" or really how any of it was physically possible without some sort of projection mechanism. Leave it to wizards to over-complicate the invention of something that was essentially a Muggle television.

"It's good to have Hermione back." Bill commented after awhile, nodding over to were Hermione was sitting, catching up with her friends from Hogwarts.

"I can't say that I wasn't surprised to hear about her leaving," Bill continued, "but wherever it is that she went—whatever she needed to find to heal—I'm glad that she seems to have found it." His older brother turned and gave him an appraising look, "You look good too. That promotion of yours really suits you."

Charlie looked at his drink, guilt pulling at his heart. He had been so concerned about hiding the truth from Ron, his parents, and Harry until Hermione was ready to go public with their relationship that he hadn't even factored in how it would feel to be unable to share one of the most important aspects of his life with his older brother.

His older bother who he was incredibly close with and greatly admired, but was also a_ cursebreaker_ and extremely adept at detecting deceit.

"Thanks, Bill." Charlie replied, trying to think of something to say that wasn't a lie.

Regardless of the no-lying pact he held with Hermione, Bill always had an uncanny ability to read people—Charlie especially, "These past few months have been some of the best of my life."

Charlie knew that he needed to tread carefully on this topic, but he couldn't help but glance over at Hermione as he spoke, an entirely different emotion pulling on his heart. Almost as if sensing his gaze, she turned away from the Quidditch pitch and gave him a soft, affectionate smile. It was the smile that she would always give him during the small, quiet moments they shared—when she would catch him looking at her as she scribbled her potion making notes in the lab or when he would look up from making dinner in her apartment to find her staring at him affectionately for no reason from where she was prepping her portion of the meal.

It was a quiet moment shared between two people in love.

A moment that did not go unnoticed by Bill.

Charlie was so caught up in thought that when Bill asked where it was Hermione had been all this time, he didn't even think before he responded.

"Cardiff."

His eyes widened as he realized what he'd said and turned to explain, but Bill raised a hand.

"For someone who works with Quintuple X creatures for a living, I can't believe you'd consider doing something so dangerous."

_Shit._

"Bill…" Charlie began, only to be waved off once again by his older brother as he wordlessly cast a privacy charm.

"How long?" Bill asked, his voice giving away no emotion.

"Since March," Charlie watched as his brothers eyes widened slightly in shock, "but I ran into her on accident in January before I started at the sanctuary. We got dinner that night and kept in contact until…well…"

There was really no good way to finish that sentence.

The two stood there there in silence for a moment, Charlie trying not to squirm under his brother's scrutiny. If anyone would understand, it was Bill, but his brother had always held little patience for the trouble that Charlie always seemed to find himself when they were in school together.

Bill began to chuckle, "You must _really_ love her."

Charlie gave his brother a quizzical look, not certain if the sudden reaction was good or not.

"You may be _reckless_ at times, Charlie, but you're not _malicious_." Bill softly chided, "You would never do anything that would hurt this family—that would hurt _Ron_—intentionally.

"You've also never been one to enter into serious long term relationships," His expression softened, "so for you to be in a _six month relationship_ is already quite the feat, but for it to be with Hermione Granger…" he sighed, "I know it wasn't a decision you made lightly. Either of you.

"So tell me," Bill said looking over at Hermione once more, "how exactly did she convince my dear brother to give up his philandering ways?"

Charlie found himself telling his brother everything, his body nearly flooding with relief that he was finally able to share the full truth of these past few months with someone. How he had honestly just been looking for some new books before he began his research at the Welsh sanctuary when he ran into Hermione who had been all but terrified that he was there to take her back to the Burrow. How he had invited her to dinner on a whim because he knew that everyone in the family would have been upset with him if he hadn't—but now they were likely to be upset with him because of what had happened because of it. The letters. The weekend visits.

The disastrous hours when he had thought he had ruined their friendship because he had kissed her outside of that quaint little coffee shop. The blissful months they had since shared after their friendship became something more.

"Bill…" Charlie said as he finished his story, debating on whether or not he wanted to share with his brother what he'd been suspecting to be true for the past few weeks.

He'd shared this much, why stop now?

"Bill, I think she's _the one_."

Bill's eyebrows shot up.

"I'm happy for you, truly." He began keeping his voice level, but unable to hide the look of concern from his face, "But you are going to have _a lot_ of shit to go through before you even consider walking down that aisle."

Charlie scrubbed a hand over his face, "I know."

"You need to tell Ron." Bill continued, "Soon."

"I promised Hermione that we would start telling people once she was ready."

At that, Bill simply shot Charlie a look.

"Ron might hate me and Mom will definitely have some choice words, but…" Charlie sighed, "They're family."

He looked over at Percy, "No matter what, we always find our way back to one another—to forgiveness." Charlie looked back at Bill, his expression grave, "Ron was one of her_ best_ friends. Harry and Ginny…they've all been through so much together. _She_ has to be the one to tell them and it has to be on _her_ terms."

Bill waited patiently as Charlie paused to collect his thoughts, "I…don't want her to lose them because of…I can't…" Charlie let out a deep breath as he vocalized the fear that had been ever present since their relationship started, "What if I've ruined her life?"

"From what I've seen, you've done the exact opposite." Bill glanced over at Hermione, looking as though he was debating with himself.

"That horrible day when they came to Shell Cottage…" he paused, "I imagine that you know all of what transpired at Malfoy Manor."

Charlie felt the blood drain from his face. He would never forget the day she had told him—when she had shown him the horrible slur than had been permanently carved into her arm. He could never thank his brother and sister-in-law enough for how they had helped her after her escape.

"I had never seen anyone so broken." Bill continued, lowering his voice even though the privacy charm was still in place, "They never told us what exactly had happened, but it's not hard to guess. The Death Eaters were nothing if not predictable in their interrogation methods.

"Which was why I was not all that surprised when she left. Hermione had built a rather impressive emotional wall around herself to stay functioning after experiencing what she did. To keep doing what needed to be done to end the war…it was only a matter of time before it would break. And now she's here smiling…laughing." He turned to address Charlie, "She's _healthy_. Everyone here has seen the change in her—the change you've clearly had a part in. They'll all come around to it. Even Ron.

"As for dealing with Mom…" Bill trailed off, a grin slowly spreading across his face, "Well, she already likes Hermione, so you're already off to a better start."

The brothers chuckled as they remembered their mother's initial reaction to learning about Bill's relationship with Fleur.

"Just know that both of us have your back." Bill said, "Fleur could give Hermione pointers on how to handle our mother should she…react less favorably than either of you would like." His face lit up, "I can't _wait_ to tell Fleur. She's been telling me we need to make more 'couples friends' for awhile now and it would be nice to hang out with other adults for a change."

Charlie watched his brother stare fondly at his wife and young child, knowing full well that Bill was perfectly contented with his life as is. Charlie couldn't help but feel slightly envious.

"I am sure Hermione would love that." He replied, smiling, "There aren't a lot of couples in either of our friend groups—none that know the full extent of our history anyway. It'd be nice to be around family and not have to hide it."

Bill gave him a sly look, "About that. I would maybe try a _little_ bit harder to not moon over each other as much if you're intending to keep your relationship a secret past the end of the match."

Charlie gave his brother an unamused look.

"You work with dragons for a living." Bill smirked as he cancelled the privacy charm, "You're not exactly subtle."

With one final teasing shove, the two headed over to the balcony to take their seats and watch the match live.

* * *

Hermione moved to grab another lemonade about two hours into the match.

She'd sat next to Neville and Luna for nearly the entire time, learning about Luna's work in researching lesser known magical creatures and Neville's Auror training. He and Harry were often paired together and just like with Harry, Auror training really suited him.

She was thinking about asking Luna and Neville if they wanted to come out to Cardiff for a weekend when she sensed someone was approaching her.

It didn't take long for her to realize that it was Ron.

"Hey." He greeted, his hands once again shoved into his pockets.

_'It only took two hours, but I finally got my hello.'_ Hermione thought before reminding herself to be cordial.

"Hi." She replied.

"Great game." Ron said as he reached to grab a glass of his own.

"Yes. Ginny's playing really well." Hermione commented, keeping her voice neutral as she poured the lemonade into her glass.

She set the pitcher down and watched as Ron reached over to pick it up, annoyingly nonchalant. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't meeting her eyes that made her resolve snap. Or perhaps it was the fact that after months of imagining what their first encounter would be like, the reality of it being a half-hearted conversation about sports that did it.

Either way, Hermione couldn't stop the exasperated huff that escaped her lips.

"Are we _really_ talking about Quidditch?"

"Seems like it." He replied automatically before realizing that it was the wrong thing to say.

He set the lemonade pitcher down with a sigh, "Look, 'Mione…I'm…I'm sorry about how everything ended. I wasn't being very fair to you that night. I was short with you and you were hurting." His voice dropped to a whisper, "I didn't know how much you were hurting."

Hermione's expression softened, "That's because you never asked, Ron."

Ron clenched jaw—a classic tell that he was going to get defensive.

"I just wanted to help, 'Mione."

"I know, but…Ron, listen to what you just said." Hermione stated, keeping her tone even. If they were going to argue, she wanted to at least try to stop it from becoming a screaming match, "You're sorry, but only for how things ended. You just wanted to help, but never asked what I needed."

Ron turned to fix her with a glare, "And what you needed was space. Got that message loud and clear."

It felt as though she had been punched in the gut. Of all the people to talk about needing space.

"Look, I don't want to fight. Not here." Ron sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, "I'm…I'm glad you're better."

Without any further preamble, Ron turned to head back to his seat.

Within an instant, Harry walked over to where she stood, shellshocked from the tense exchange. He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

"We'll never be okay." Hermione whispered, unable to deny the possibility that maybe their friendship had truly fractured beyond repair.

"He needs time." Harry reasoned, looking over at their friend.

Hermione gave him a skeptical look.

"And a good talking to." He added, "He'll come around, Hermione. You know he will."

Hermione gave a sad nod, thinking about how even if they were able stop fighting long enough to repair their friendship, the revelation of her relationship with Charlie would destroy any semblance of good will they would have built.

"I'm going to step out and get some air." Hermione said, setting her drink down on the table. Upon seeing Harry's concerned look, she added, "I promise I'm fine, I just…need a moment."

He gave her arm one last squeeze before she turned away and headed to the stairwell that was immediately outside the suite. She walked down two flights before she took a seat, already lost in a swirl of ugly thoughts.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there alone, but knew immediately when Charlie had walked down to join her.

"He hates me." She stated numbly as he took a seat next to her.

Charlie immediately set up privacy charms.

"I don't think that's true." He replied as he tucked his wand away, "I think he hates himself more than anything."

Hermione scoffed.

"This may come as a shock to you," Charlie continued, "but my youngest brother has always been quite prideful and more than a little stubborn. He just doesn't want to admit that his actions hurt you—that he had contributed to the pain you were in." he paused, "He may not have even admitted it to himself yet."

Hermione sighed with relief when she felt Charlie wrap his arm around her. She hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to be near him without getting physically close like this.

"It doesn't excuse his behavior, but it helps to understand where he's coming from."

"That's just it." Hermione insisted as she rested her head on his shoulder, "He hasn't even bothered to try to understand where _I'm_ coming from. In all this time, he still doesn't get it."

"He will. Eventually."

"That's what Harry said." Hermione muttered.

"Well, there you go!" Charlie replied with false mirth that she knew was only for her benefit, "It might not be the answer you want, but knowing how thickheaded my brother can get about things…"

Hermione sighed, nuzzling deeper into his shoulder, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his leather jacket that always seemed to put her at ease. They sat like that for a while, before Hermione gave him a gentle nudge.

"I should head back in before anyone comes looking for me and sees…"

Charlie nodded and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"About that…" He began, his voice oddly tight, "Bill knows."

Hermione turned to face him, pulling out of his hold in shock, "_What?_"

He shrugged, "Bill sort of…picked up on a few things. Apparently, I'm not exactly subtle."

While Hermione's heart was racing, she couldn't help but feel slightly relieved.

Someone knew and all hell hadn't broken loose.

"What'd he—"

"I'll tell you more about it when we get home," Charlie interrupted, "but just know that he's an ally. Fleur too."

She numbly nodded in response.

"Right." She stated, standing up, "Well…let's just be extra cautious for the remainder of the match."

Charlie stood, nudging her forward, "Go. I'll wait a few minutes before I head back in."

Hermione took in a deep breath as she walked back up the stairs, wondering what she would even say to Bill the next time she saw him, nearly running into George who had been peering over the stair-rail.

"I came out to see if you were okay, but it seems as though my brother beat me to it."

Hermione froze.

"What, pray tell, was so enthralling that you needed to cast a privacy charm when talking to said dearest brother, Charles?"

Her mind flew into a panic.

Bill and Fluer knowing was one thing—Bill had always been closer to Charlie than the other Weasley siblings, so she wasn't terribly shocked that he would take their side, but George…

He and Fred had both been relatively close with the trio during their time in and out of Hogwarts. His good opinion was less certain.

"I don't know—"

George cut her off, clearing his throat, "I've heard that he's been enjoying his research in Wales quite a lot. Where was it that Ginny said you lived again?"

Hermione remained silent, this time decidedly _not_ liking the mischievous glint in his eyes.

George looked back at the door to the suite.

"What you said earlier…you're happy? Truly?"

He turned back to meet her gaze, his impertinence replaced with sincere concern.

Hermione was so taken aback by the sudden change of emotion that it was all she could manage to say, "Yes."

George smiled, "Your secret's safe with me, Granger."

Hermione sighed in relief.

"Though, when you inevitably get bored with Charlie's annoyingly rugged good looks, don't bother coming to me. You're not my type. You'd have a much better shot at Percy."

And just like that, the impudence was back.

"Prat." Hermione grumbled, giving him a swat on the arm.

It was at that moment that Charlie rounded the final landing of the stairwell surprised to see Hermione standing there with George who chose in that moment to flash his older brother a rather cheeky thumbs up.

Hermione gave his arm another whack for good measure.

Turning to face Charlie, Hermione gave a helpless shrug, "So, George knows."

"I figured as much." Charlie stated as he took a few cautious steps forward, still trying to assess the situation.

George threw an arm around Hermione, adopting a comically serious demeanor, "Be good to our girl, here, yeah?"

At this, Charlie seemed to relax slightly, "I don't plan on being anything else."

"Good, because I would hate to have to send you another Confettive."

Charlie groaned which caused Hermione to laugh. She was certain that she had spotted a little sprinkling of glitter underneath the side table next to his sofa the other day.

"Now come on." George ushered, "In we go. Much less suspicious as a group of three. Speaking of which, the art of nuance was never Charlie's strength, but I expected better espionage from you, Granger."

Hermione laughed as Charlie simply rolled his eyes, the three of them walking back into the suite to continue watching the match.

* * *

The rest of the game went without incident.

The Harpies won 230-140 and by the time Hermione made it back to her apartment, she was worn out from the day's events. She had stayed well past the game's end to wait for Ginny to come up to the box after she had finished with her official team duties.

"Hermione! You made it!" she had exclaimed, rushing up to Hermione.

"Of course!" Hermione said, throwing her arms around her friend, "You were brilliant! Utterly brilliant!"

"Thank you." Ginny gushed, her face flushing from the praise, "I am so glad you came!"

Lowering her voice she asked, "Was my brother on his best behavior?"

It had taken Hermione longer than it should have to realize she meant Ron.

"Not exactly." She admitted.

"What a git." Ginny had huffed.

"I'm sure Harry will fill you in on most of what happened, but for the most part, peace was kept." Hermione clarified.

At that moment, Molly had called Ginny to come over to say goodbye to Bill and Fleur before they left so she could see her niece and Hermione had gestured for Ginny to go.

"Lunch soon?" Ginny asked, "Our pre-season intensive training is finally over, so I actually have my weekends back."

"Lunch soon." She agreed.

Now, having been home for all of five minutes, Hermione found herself half asleep on her sofa, not even bothering to remove her shoes or scarf when she heard the telltale sign of the Floo network activating in her fireplace. She opened an eye to watch Charlie walk through the green flames, quickly syphoning off the excess ash and dirt with his wand. Upon seeing her in her sorry state, he smiled.

"As comfortable as your sofa is, I think we can do better."

Before she could ask what he meant, she felt him scoop her into his arms and carry her off to the bedroom. If Hermione hadn't been so emotionally drained, she would have found the whole scenario highly romantic. After gingerly placing her on her side of the bed, he hopped in next to her after taking a moment to take both of their shoes off before settling in the bed, apparently equally as keen for a late afternoon nap. Hermione found herself relaxing against him as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"So Bill, Fleur, and George know about us." He said after a moment.

Hermione shifted, rolling over to face him.

"I'm actually a little relieved." She admitted, becoming very focused on the feel of his leather jacket underneath her hand.

He hadn't taken it off.

"It…doesn't seem as scary telling everyone else any more. I mean…" she paused, collecting her thoughts, "I'm still concerned with how Ginny and Harry will react, but…it's nice to know we already have people in our corner, you know?"

Charlie nodded, leaning in to give Hermione a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling her closer towards him, his eyes closing.

"I can't believe you're going to sleep in your jacket." Hermione yawned.

"It's actually pretty comfortable." He chuckled sleepily.

Hermione gave an affirmative hum and within minutes, the two were fast asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: I am not quite sure what it was about this chapter that made it so difficult to write. I've had this whole story outlined from the start, but as I write each chapter, things change and I found myself constantly writing and rewriting and editing and re-editing trying to make sure that everything was just right until I looked up suddenly it's now the end of September?!**

**As always, thank you so much for reading and for putting up with my sporadic posting schedule. Every notification I get in my inbox from your follows, faves, and thoughtful reviews make my day. You guys are simply the best! Next chapter...Ginny becomes the next Weasley to find out.**


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